Deceptive Fires of Hope

I stamp out thoughts of you,
like smoldering embers scattered thick
through miles of dry grass-lands.
I drive myself to exhaustion,
grinding wishes to the ground.
Still they flame up all around me.
Hopes rise up to taunt me,
to tease my hopeless heart.
The smoke of all these dreams of you
blind me from your declarations
that you do not want me.
In rising plumes of smoke and flame,
I see your eyes speaking thoughts
both gentle and passionate.
In white ashen dust, I see spirits
you’ve sent to bear your words to me.
Weak with wear, short of oxygen,
I can believe you hold back for noble cause,
but that you want to hold onto me.
Singed, worn, and tired of stomping,
I am overcome with foolish faith
that someday you will carry me away
from this burning field of confusion
and let me lay against you
wrapped up in your arms, in happiness.
A cruel trick these fires would play
to taunt a soul already burning.