The Anchor.

Just a little something I put together reflecting on the end of Summer 2018, as well as a nod to a friend of mine whose company I quite enjoy.

A fiery head clouded my judgement,

Its fibres gilded gold did not glisten

But were dull like handcuffs.

My internment alien to all but me,

Feeding the will of a repressed, stoic, ego.

Out there exists real treasure also,

Golden in hair and ratio.

But dabbling in such wealth lost both itself and friend

Dulling the edge of husbandry.

Icarus’ fatal mistake.

But my “crime” did not warrant exile.

Instead it bore similar understanding,

Relief and honesty I had long hidden for

Fear of tongue-tempests and tantrums.

The river extinguishes the flames,

My small craft saved from disaster.

The water charts the course to a better place.

Smaller, more intimate, both potentially

More and less false in equal measure;

It all depends on the fire you feed.

I have learned from the mistakes of my kin.

Gasoline, amour propre and a question asked in the

Capital could only fan the flames of an Inferno in a champagne

Dress that would eventually burn to the ground.

My freedom set the sky alight in flights of cinders,

Unabated by tears and sour guilt.

I have learned my own lesson; instead I fan a different flame.

Much less volatile, warmer, creating calm and consensus.

We utter our words for Glory at the very witching time of night.

Rather removed in distance and expertise, we tread separate paths.

Hibernian expanse, however, is no impediment to the plans we make.

My purse, my person, my extremest means

Lie all unlocked to your occasions.

Our operation is a go.

I will not lament for things I have lost to the fire,

For I have gained a friend.

Reviews

[m3lody mae]

wow, very captive deep write.

[Ben McKeon]

Thanks for the feedback, means a lot!