A poem: Flames that burn

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This flame inside of me, it burns and burns, 

It sparkles and shines, and never subsides, 

It glows even in the darkest of hours, away from you, 

It reduces everything into ashes, leaving only the true, 

It casts a light on the endless days, that never seem to quiver, 

However dim, at times, however strong in others, 

It is always relentlessly burning and burning inside of me, 

In it I sleep, I rest, I awake, I dream, I love and I give, 

All that can be, all that already is, in there in that endless fire. 

Who am I? One may ask. 

I am her… that brilliant sparkling glimmer of strength,

She defines me, composes me and sparks up my soul, 

With wings of red light,  endless passionate new beginnings, 

She is I and I am her, in the night, it is us who bleed, 

But in the day, it is also us who relentlessly fly, 

In the worlds of music, in the depths of the bottomless ocean, 

In the caress of what has always been,

And yes… in the journeys of what is yet to come. 

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