An ache

It feels like the world is on fire. 

And, the ache of blisters are competing;

one with the other.

Former leads the upcoming,

none tends to heal. 

The wind that blows, 

expected to be pacifying, 

 comes up with vigor instead.

They said love seals.

How naïve it is, not to realize,

 it is meant to seal the fragile.
Rock demands to be melted.

 A fire to reform, and an ache to repel.