Your looks will fade my love
And all the endless preening will come to naught
I was once like you
In other flames, my comfort sought
I let my fire dwindle while I stoked theirs.
And danced like a dervish and whirled through their stares.
Slow it was, the creeping decay
Which turned copper to rust
Grass to hay.
Until one day they looked no more.
And my inner workings were merely gore.
Left uncared for … my brain did rot
And thus it is….my unhappy lot.
So dance my pretty
I’m not saying no
But keep your inner fire burning
Because your looks will go.