Burning An Origami Box 2.5/5 (2)

I’m watching you buckle and falter,
Giving in, weakly, to the voracity of flame.
Do you remember when I molded you,
How carefully I folded you?
Only to give, coldly, you who lacked blame,
To the sacrifice and pain of my altar.

If the game is creation, I am the defaulter,
I’ve burned what I built for the sake of my name.
But do you remember how I held you,
How gently I shelled you,
From a world more callous than tame?
An irony before cruelty, for you, my exalter—

For you, who still falter,
For you, who collapse under flame.
Do you remember how I called you?
Do you feel it now I scald you?
Say my name, say my name,
My exalter.

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