A river of magma in veins in flesh that burn and boil and blaze has found a home within my gaze and temperament these days. I see what I can't hope to change, and within my feeble soul I scream and shout inside my hole and life doth take its toll.
I'm not a fan of "and life doth take its toll". Too cheesy. But I don't think it's bad enough to put in the "poems I don't like anymore" category.