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It started with a spark.

That small, miraculous ignition

Kindling my existence, my


It flickered, tiny, vulnerable, but

Protected by other flames from extinguishment

Fanned by the air around me,

Fueled by the knowledge imparted

I grew, a steady flame, strong, bright.

Until the collision. The damage done to me, torched through me,

Fuel on flame, I burned…

Higher, brighter, angry

I scorched so many in my passage

Leaving permanent scars, in some cases, from the trauma of my touch.

A bonfire cannot burn forever.

Rains came.

Soothing, healing,

Quenching fires I never meant to set.

Until I was naught but ashes, and

Deeply banked coals, glowing in the dark.

Would that I could heal away the scars,

But that’s not how fire works.

So, I wait for the phoenix to rise.

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