I sway in the sharp turns
As the engine revs
And veers with little concern

Time
Is beyond my helpless reach
As I endure
The treacherous swerves

Whilst growing sick
With vitriol
Swollen and red
To a loud and fiery brink

Passion
Is swift
To thieve me of faithful ground

To lead my form
Toward the certain doom
Of a lustful, ardent furnace

Where my entirety
Shall surely disband
In hateful, scalding fragments

To slip
Softly
Into a cold remorse

Thoughtfully, listing
At the toll
Of the day’s farewell