The Plea.

Maybe it's the rain that keeps me sane
In this wild, fiery trail—
caught in a spiral
That reaches nowhere near the skies.

And I remember the face—
The hands that took me,
Shook me,
Betrayed me—
The face I longed to see.

No more will I touch down;
I'd rather be burnt.
Among the ashes,
Find me.
Please.