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Out of My Control

December 23, 2015

I sit calmly as the fire rages on.


I’m opposed to putting it out in fear of losing the light,

nor can I afford to lose the heat.

One cannot imagine the deafening silence of the absence of conflagration;

what will I do without the flames dancing to my entertainment?


I love this; I am this.


For if the fire were to go, so would a piece of me, nay, all of me,

as I’ve identified with the element as it grew beyond my comprehension and control.

This is out of my control.


How could I become one with something so dangerous, something  set out to impose its will on me?

For I thought I had a handle on it, that it moved and breathed to my every command.

Now it is the dominant. Without it, I am nothing. With it, I am burned.

Where does one go from here? Surely there must be a way.

But this battle will be won not by a domestication of the elements,

but of the emotions within.


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