Burn out.

Must I burn out? Like a flame of good riddance. Take away from me all that was flame, impatient, feisty, cruel and forever yielding. I walk to a place unknown to me; I walk bare foot, my walk solemn. There’s a fire starting in me, and I’m saving a flame in my name. Dedicating it a rhythm, dictating it a note and humming my song, familiar to what it feels. It burns inside me, it simmers after a while...in dire state of affairs. So save me some oil; toss it over when it brims with a slight touch of my toe as I walk past it...before I drown, it must brim over, it must fall...before I drown in the abyss of thoughts...

I ebb at the end of my flame, with fire in my eyes, because where I gaze I find dark. Dark until I let my sight linger...I need to find a way, I need enlightenment, and it’s for that, that I burn. So save me some oil, keep tossing whenever it brims, keep tossing whenever it does not...just keep tossing where I gaze....from where I look ,the flame will arch . Arch into a direction new, lead afresh .A little oil and my simmering flame. It burns low, low inside me, feeding upon my thoughts ,devouring every nerve slowly, charring every contour of my being. I simply stand while this inferno rages inside me, calm in the face of the night...in awe of the beauty of the full moon, feel its touch on my skin, gingerly I smile. I like what this feels like, to feel what it is to burn, to know what has never been felt. Just like I used to play when I was naive, cut my finger through the flame, skim over it again just to feel the extent of heat...to now when I myself have become one, a flame...

Draped in the cloth of my effigy, burnt silken rust, I feel the subtle light from it against my skin.

My flame is chaste, lifting into vapours as rain falls on my skin, it never lets it linger lest I begin to feel again, the sins of the world...lest I realize the cloth I’ve draped will fall like a veil of lie, that falls to the test of times.

At the sight of the moon, the fire within me glints in my eye, reflecting all that I dream. All that was meant to be hidden, to be hushed under my breath until I found my stand, until I was where I belonged. It was meant to be showcased, not veiled off...I rage, I burn .I will not bow, no. How can I while my flame still burns?  It still burns inside me nonchalantly; I need to be its emotion. Or I will not leave. I must stay. Stay here and find where I must arch, to a place where I belong, and the one that belongs to me. It is beyond rhyme and reason to say I fail to find, my lead, my way when there’s fire in my eyes, when I’m not blinded my its eccentricity. I will find a way, a way to burn my evil down. My thoughts are juvenile not crippled, quietly they burn, they flame.

Must I toil further to save my seething mind? Must I save my share for you? Are you willing to take? Will you accept what I would not sacrifice to lame ashes, a few marvels of my own, all burnt in my flame?