Freethinking through the Flames

Tendrils of deep black leap from the underneathTwisting their way through the crisp night's airAnd with them they bring a pungent odourA stench of ambiguityClouding the mind like a drugBony talons of smoke grasp around necks of truthsStrangling all who opposeBut at the same time conflicted Confused by the illogical, the irrationalBy thoughts of pure dementia  Then come the flamesCurling,flickering,dancingAs if in tune to death's melodyTheir edges reach highShowing their claim over a once innocent mind  Burning through cast iron shacklesOf silence and of cowardice A once abstinence of revelations unveiled While orange wisps of virgin flame illuminateMy fateOne of scepticism and fiery opinionA fate bound by FLAME

This poem is about: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741