as the breeze dances through the leaves
to the echoes of the flittering of birds
i look up towards the sun
to bask in its warmth, once again; reminding me of the fire of my soul.
it will burn and rise as strong and high as i let it
yet, for all my efforts,
i am not its master.
a few drops of water is all it takes, to render a passionate flame an ash-covered heap of dirt.
or a bold enough wind to force out the sparks of life within me.
for as much as i let my own ignorance allow myself to believe i am its guardian and protector i know, deep in my heart of hearts,
that i am truly powerless.
fickle and futile: the human experience.
before me, emerges a crossroads
i know where i want to go
i know where i need to go
they are not the same destination.
do i act out of self-pity or accept that the chains of futility are permanent,
so why not throw em over my shoulder and run as far as i can.
i wont run forever but who knows where i’ll end up.
and that’s good enough a reason for me to go.