Hot Ball (Poetry)

I pushed it all so far away
and now it’s rolling back
gaining speed from day to day
on some relentless track

A ball of memories still hot —
a burning funeral pyre
I hoped would turn to ash and not
prove smoke conceals more fire

Like some strange sun that circles round
it scorches as it nears
there’s no protection to be found —
I’m naked with my fears

My personal apocalypse
rolls onwards — fierce as fate
each mental image melts and drips
the hours incinerate

Closer, closer — each red flame
a searing of the soul
while Hell by any other name
predicts a mean own goal