The Fire within
An atrabilious night
in which I gave up;
scintillating stars somehow
melancholic and mopey.
The ebony, edacious,
devoured me
but one star remained above
burning
brighter
with time.
A mesmeric morning
to which I survived,
clambering away from
a rocky bottom
of angered waves bound
to drown me
but not today.
Bones broken,
scars bleeding,
fingers skinned,
still I crawled onward
before collapsing,
sea water at my skin.
A friscilating horizon ahead
exploding auburn and gold;
Slowly I awaken
to the way it
smears and shimmers
alongside passion.
The fire within
doesn’t always arrive as
flames licking ruins.
Sometimes it’s that
lone searing star
waiting for the day
you see it once more.
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