I would take the garbage every day to burn.  I was a child then.

I lit the paper and watched flames ignite.  I am no child now.

I watched the flames climb, roll, and roar.

I watched the colors dance and soar.

I watched and I watched, mesmerized.

Impressed, enchanted, bewitched by the flame.


And one day the flame took me.

Lit a fire of anger that no force can quench.

Lit a fire of destiny that no sword can bend.

Forged in caves, dungeons, and silent halls,

The flame inside of me gathered power, volition

Gathered intuition, direction, motion, LIFE

And through that fire I lived again when once I had died,

My enemy a friend.

And the flames rise rise RISE.

I stand aghast in view of their breadth and disguise.


2 thoughts on “PYRO

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