Afire

Drowning, yet oh-so-alive,

Clawing at the surface,

Flying through life,

Oblivious,

Trapped in my glass tower,

Locked away

And cursed,

To see naught but the shadows

Cast, carelessly, across the wall,

Imprisoned by my privilege,

Blinded by my own brilliance,

Embittered by first love’s sweetness,

Carried away upon some autumnal wind,

Never to take but a single draught;

Caught, as if by own drought,

Stranded, as if from some Biblical flood,

On my ivory mountain,

Fated to watch the watery world

b-u-r-n

In fires of my very own creation.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s