The heat of the day, like a love gone astray, Is painful, exhausting, and intense. And no one can say, if it will stay, Or if it will always dispense. The heat of the sun, is fooling no one, It’s really just killing us slowly. If we stay or we run, the damage is done, Like lost love, it consumes us wholly. As heat starting fires, love sparks my desires, And I pray, ‘May this one please last?’ But as with all liars, heat warping wires, Love’s warranty has already passed. So I take the hit, this perennial shit, Where getting hurt is the paradigm. With shoulders sunlit, skin burned, lips split, Love incinerates and scorches sometimes. As heat loses the fight, and day gives into night, The darkness and cold come to reign, And no amount of light, no matter how bright Can always the deep cold restrain. So if love’s the heat, must it compete, With the cold and the bleak to survive? Or is love’s defeat, rendered obsolete, When new love is allowed to thrive?