Is a conflagration of cauterized thoughts
Ideas intransigent, enkindled by Purpose
They need no extinguishers, these ruminations
For they are in their state, they have a mind
They can turn to ash, they can reduce to embers
But ironically bake and crystallize, then burst into flames
This inferno is blind, blind to time and space
It knows no fatigue, it is incandescent yet cool
It defines me, it has a soul and lives
It can’t die because it is disinterred
These searing thoughts burn me up
Consume me with love and loathe alike
To cinder prejudice and mock tyrannies
To bake ash of the underprivileged and build fireworks
My soul is ablaze, I am a ball of fire
I am spiraling, spinning at the centre of Reason
Burning effigies of Illogicities
Question is not whether the flame burns
But who it won’t spare in the smolder.
C) Lorot Salem 2011
4 comments:
Beautiful and evocative, and the last two lines? Sublime!
Thank you Kim Nelson.
Wowzers! I agree with Kim. Sizzling and the last two lines knock it out of the park!
Gladdened, Sherry Blue Sky :)
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Echoes of the Hills is all about you. I would love to hear your echo...