Wind won’t blow my demons away, their feet are firmly planted into my frontal lobe,
preventing me from channeling my inner Latrobe;
creating a model of what I want to become.
Water won’t work, my demons won’t drown, they can swim.
But fire, fire works.
Fire lurks, is patient and waits for the right time to reduce its victim to nothingness; just a few of its perks.
Somehow the slither of kindling and tinder within me has managed to ignite a flame,
and I want for it to be everything but tamed.
It is this light, my light I need to help me see.
For it is dark and bleak,
I can’t live like this and ever dream of reaching my peak.
It is this light, my light I need to set me free.
Please innocent flame become malignant and dance on my palms if my grip appears tight.
At times I feel I hold onto my demons,
and I know it ain’t right.
So please innocent flame, set these demons alight.
Even if it means hurting me
I need them out of mind out of sight.

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