Ash
Twists and twirls
In the midnight air.

Dancing
With calm winds
Hidden
With steady rhythms.

Consuming
Everything
Without a care.

Sounds like
Gun fire defends
Towards moving whispers
No one can fathom.
--

Is it a figment
Of imagination?

Or a dark
And obscure void?

Filled with
Devoted light
Of desolation.

Rarely
Can anyone avoid,
A spark
That never dies
And can hardly be enjoyed.
--

Chaos
In the broken hearted.

Many evenings
Of mourning quite hard.

Sinful flesh
Starts to deteriorate
And all
Will not survive
To travel much farther.

For the road
Goes on to far.
--

Beauty rises
From the ashes
Of persistent souls.

Centuries
Of life's wasted time,

Fight!

Past presences
Of failures
That take control.
--

Giving up
The fight
Becomes
A crime.
--

Letting go
Will end in an explosion
Of lovers
Departures
Into other worlds.

At the end
Of the road
Is isolation;
Falling
Through ignorance
And stupidity.

Barriers
Between lost and concentration
Lacks of
Breath and curiosity.

Life
Should not have
Hesitation.

I know
That fire never stops
To ask,
"What is the outcome?".