1 posts
  • absynth 16w


    As a kid I loved the blast of fire crackers
    And as age dawned
    The soothing flame of an oil lamp
    Was enough to keep the warmth alive
    But the thing is I never stopped burning bright,
    My curiosities leaving mounds of ash behind
    only to rise on gunpowder wings
    As tiny interior decorators
    moving out of a roofless home
    To reach out for the illusion of fireworks
    displaying a catalog of vibrant designs,
    Burning away the cobwebs of the mind
    With their dance moves of dazzling light.

    It isn't such a big task getting used
    To the air and sound pollution
    Resulting from these festive explosions
    When the head itself is a shooting range
    Where thoughts bullet their way through
    Leaving countless dents and empty shells
    Or emotions erupt all of a sudden as
    Dormant volcanoes cauterizing their way
    Through the heaving ribcage.
    But now the fire fosters me well
    Because I have learnt to keep the wick floating
    Above this carnage so as to capture
    all of this blitzkrieg into a tiny flame.

    With each new inner conflict
    Brighter burns this wick,
    Keeping the night company
    Till the sun arrives,
    Revelling in this sense of chivalry
    So as not to be mistaken by the dark
    As earthen and ordinary.
    And today seeing so many lights
    flickering before my eyes
    I empathize with this tiny flame that divides but remains as bright
    Because both of us aren't that different
    when it comes to defusing the firecracker inside.