New flame doesn't know his fuel.
He seethes upon mysterious shoulders.
New sparks flail from his wrath into labyrinth walls
as he burns the world in his causeless rebellion.
Old flame has a subtle lilt she learned from home.
She sips her oil and pens direct, cordial thoughts.
She lets active flints bark until their throats are sore
or they have caught fire for more than naught.
New flame urges the young with his projected spittle.
Little kindlings stack themselves at his feet as his napalm pours.
The daylong army has begun its march on everything
because they never sought foundation, only things to abhor.
Old flame has enough ink for decades of wisdom.
She has changed the world in peace and with loving paste.
Quiet in frame she knows her source from crinkled pages
moonlit in humilty, forgoing the death of baseless haste.
Passionate like a bear. Stubborn as a ram. Systematic as a rocket scientist.
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