I wrote this poem as a burst of consciousness, and I liked how it started off and the idea, but thought it finished really badly. I suppose it kinda sounds a bit psycho, I was aiming for something Edgar Allen Poe might right. I my rewrite it, but I'll see what you think of it. 
And yes, it is a weird poem, and I'm not even sure if it makes perfect sense to me. Tell me what needs work and how you interpret it.
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When I sit beside the fire
And I call the world a liar
Their burns within
A grievous sin
I name desire.
I sit in solitude
Switching in my mood
From dreams of gain
To thoughts of pain
A mental feud.
“Why give in to your desire?”
“I cannot stop this fatal fire!”
“Why not fight it? How you tire!”
“Stop it, stop it, liar, liar!”
Everything I fear
And all that I hold dear
Comes to mind
A tortured kind
Of bitter tear.
I try to lift my head
But, oh, the fire red
Burns in my eye
A blazing cry
Another tear I shed.
“Fight it, do not stop, you mustn’t tire!”
“But the fire, oh the fire, to that I must aspire!”
“You cannot reach that desire!”
“But I must go ever higher!”
Then my poor mind flies
And releases anguished cries
How to win
And live again
Just as the fire dies.
I fall upon the floor
Searching for the roar
Of blazing flame
That plays a game
I hear no more.
“Look no more for that flaming fire!”
“Liar! Liar! That is to what I aspire!”
“Better gone is the fire, that flame of lost desire!”
“But my passion ever dire, can it go no higher?”
“It will always burn inside, even when the fire’s died!”
“That desire in the fire burns in you!”
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And yes, it is a weird poem, and I'm not even sure if it makes perfect sense to me. Tell me what needs work and how you interpret it.
_____________________________________
When I sit beside the fire
And I call the world a liar
Their burns within
A grievous sin
I name desire.
I sit in solitude
Switching in my mood
From dreams of gain
To thoughts of pain
A mental feud.
“Why give in to your desire?”
“I cannot stop this fatal fire!”
“Why not fight it? How you tire!”
“Stop it, stop it, liar, liar!”
Everything I fear
And all that I hold dear
Comes to mind
A tortured kind
Of bitter tear.
I try to lift my head
But, oh, the fire red
Burns in my eye
A blazing cry
Another tear I shed.
“Fight it, do not stop, you mustn’t tire!”
“But the fire, oh the fire, to that I must aspire!”
“You cannot reach that desire!”
“But I must go ever higher!”
Then my poor mind flies
And releases anguished cries
How to win
And live again
Just as the fire dies.
I fall upon the floor
Searching for the roar
Of blazing flame
That plays a game
I hear no more.
“Look no more for that flaming fire!”
“Liar! Liar! That is to what I aspire!”
“Better gone is the fire, that flame of lost desire!”
“But my passion ever dire, can it go no higher?”
“It will always burn inside, even when the fire’s died!”
“That desire in the fire burns in you!”
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