Don’t settle me into the ashes of the past
with those whom’s lives were consumed
with passion of words, before becoming dust,
and then, dwindling into mediocre doom….
the doom of having made no difference
the hell of being separated from the living’s light…
the doom of never loving or succeeding
the doom of early peaks, then subtle demise….
Oh my fire has not yet burnt out….
I have colors and depth the world shall see…
and hiding the flame for fear of failure,
shall no longer stand between me & my dreams…
and when I’m done, you shall pray
that they may someday come to contain
the wildfire that my sparks shall set in the brush
of dormant dreamers, anxious to burst into flame….