Flame in the Blood

Morning Dew | Graham Gusterson | Photography

Flame in the Blood by Nick Fellner

Cursed at birth,

burned alive from the hearth,

of fire and blood,

a single flame lit the flood,

only smoke drifted away,

merely the sign of another day.

Sealed within a lost tomb,

the air around full of gloom,

there is no right for us to assume,

only the black cat can presume.

The only relief,

stems from the ancient belief,

music sings a tune,

the flopping of a fish in the sand dune.

All that remains is fire,

The situation is stagnant, dire.

In a crumbling castle,

holding onto the flag of a flame,

is such a hassle,

when it doesn’t have a name.

The dancing flame is running out of time,

inevitably burning out, it’s lost its rhyme.