“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label Embers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Embers. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Flame thrower
The children were called Embers
The parents roaring Flames
and in old age they All
became Coals.
Consumers only content
and subdued when all fuel
has been spent, lying low
until rekindled
into reaction
by a taunting breeze.
Always reaching
Up
for more
while leeching all the colors
and converting it into
expendable heat.
Dancing on destruction,
memories bridging by a spark,
the arc spans its dire
detonation
as quick as a wick
lying
next to another already lit.
Together the family,
kindling flames,
carry their torches
and blames. Sterno
for their kindred Inferno.
Image flame match strike, full color spectrum [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.
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