The Birth of Fire

When I first discovered the fire inside me I was ambling in the dark;
I was a man in the body and in the life of a boy,
a god confined by the reality permitted by circumstance or accident.

I could not foresee where its light would take me,
but the ignition drew me in—deep and deeper still—into myself.
I was my own Prometheus, but stealing the fire from myself and giving to myself.

The flames reveal the tracks that lead to a thousand and different ambitions and futures.
These, I know now, have always been there, but before were unseen with my infant sight.

At times I may lose the feel of the burning,
but it never extinguishes—every time it comes back to me its blaze is just as fierce as before,
or even more so.

The fire is everywhere in me:
I see it in my hands, my body,
in my mind, in my paths and ways.

It is everything.

The fire at the beginning was a mere glow.
But now? Now the fire is an inferno—and I aim to set my fucking world on fire.

Ex Tempore LXX
M.M. — 30-Oct-2013