we call it the light within, the core of our lives
critical to our survival, a light for all to see
we think it encompasses our conscience heart
mind, we think it is the reflection of our thoughts,
our very existence compressed into a glowing
ember of hope, love and life

we think that without it, death comes quick
and quiet, and quietly and quickly we go too
the air of our spirits, a fiery burst of determination
in even the darkest of days, a spark to revive
the flame that burns, an explosion of our colours
the very essence of ourselves

we don’t question why we think this way, we don’t
question how it burns, how it survives as well
we don’t see how it is a rock on fire, we don’t see
the price we pay, we don’t feel the tug on our
minds and hearts, how among the three, it is so
heavy, so so heavy, but we just can’t see

how does fire burn? it needs fuel, and we are the
fuel, burning us from the inside out, charring our
minds and hearts to a perfect crunchy crisp,
growing bigger and bigger, all-consuming just
like the humans are, always wanting more when
they already have more and getting less in the end
and still wanting more

slowly, we are overtaken by the flames we worship
as will everything in the end reduced to what we
actually are - a speck of dust in a universe
a universe of dust in a speck, reduced to ashes of
broken pride and nonexistent esteem, lost motivation
and dying wills, never realising their mistakes even
at the moment they die

i pity them. i pity their fake wings fake bodies fake
humans, their invisible burdens which are oh so
visible through uncovered eyes, resting on broken
backs, sprouting from the failing roots of a lost
life, desperately grabbing onto strands of sanity,
when they really are just tightening their own
noose

maybe their tears are their saving grace, wetting
their faces and hearts and minds so they don’t
immediately burst into ashes, the soaking mess
of misery grief and hopelessness, ironically
the things pulling them down to earth, keeping
them wet, so the fire of their soul does not
burn them up and out just yet

a relook at the soul: the spark within, tame at first
sight, before we feed it and do so gladly, spiralling
into a deadly monster of fire and darkness and all
we can do is to pacify satisfy it, with our minds and
souls and bodies till we fall back onto the fiery
soil as soil and soil once more

maybe humans deserve this life, and souls are just
blessings in disguise, and their ashes are meant
to be borne of the sky and sea, finally disappearing into particles of existence that
pollute our minds hearts souls.

or maybe they deserve a chance to fall asleep in
death’s soft arms.