Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Flames will fade too, Burn bright and hot until a smolder Until fleeting breaths of wind or water Put out it's last embers. And I, I am this fire Ceaselessly burning, Incandescence, Flames twirling, Dancing as if nobody had extinguished me yet Until someone does. Until the water is splashed And my fire dies. But as oxygen is to flame, Willpower is to determination And my embers will not be put out I will burn what has given to me until incineration. I ingest this wood, these obstacles, As a hungry child I engulf forests for breakfast Because fire is natural And you cannot tame what is wild. You can douse the coals after my destruction But I can rip through your town I will sear your very existence To the ground. I can be put out, as if I was never there But the grass around me And what I have left in my path Is not the same, nor will it ever be. Oh yes, embers die, too, you know- But keep in mind that while you may strike the box, I'm sure that you never lit the match With the intent to start a fire.
0
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
Embers
Flames will fade too, Burn bright and hot until a smolder Until fleeting breaths of wind or water Put out it's last embers. And I, I am this fire Ceaselessly burning, Incandescence, Flames twirling, Dancing as if nobody had extinguished me yet Until someone does. Until the water is splashed And my fire dies. But as oxygen is to flame, Willpower is to determination And my embers will not be put out I will burn what has given to me until incineration. I ingest this wood, these obstacles, As a hungry child I engulf forests for breakfast Because fire is natural And you cannot tame what is wild. You can douse the coals after my destruction But I can rip through your town I will sear your very existence To the ground. I can be put out, as if I was never there But the grass around me And what I have left in my path Is not the same, nor will it ever be. Oh yes, embers die, too, you know- But keep in mind that while you may strike the box, I'm sure that you never lit the match With the intent to start a fire.
I just want to yell slam poetry all day
kirsten-lovely
Written by
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem