BURNING.

I deeply hold my breath trying not to smell
The sturdy wooden bridge that you have burnt so well
The one and only path out my open gates
Treacherously shattered by this ill and twisted fate.

I built a rugged fortress made of rocks and stones
To keep myself from you, the one who broke my bones
I closed the rusty gates of this wretched soul
But to my fatuity I made a little hole.

Looking through the hole, hoping for some light
Despite of all the wrongs I was looking for one right
And then the smoke faded, it revealed where you stood
You were holding your breath as well from the smell of burning wood.

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