This wick that illuminates the fragrance of my soul, sprouts the visions of my past, circling and circling my mind until the gusts of regret become too much to bear.
Becoming the hero of my own story , with no one to rescue but myself, surviving the destruction that I placed upon my conscience. I am my own monster.
To tread upon the waters with grace like a white swan, constructing the movement of the ripples one stroke at a time.
I am the flame. The flame dancing upon the wick knowing that at any moment the force that once ignited my existence, can extinguish my very being with one innocent blow of breath.
— The End —