The Fire

It's only now that I notice a new era overtaking the heart of my being. Where once there was nothing but pain I feel a new fire that burns deep within. A fire mixed with hate and love, of desire and denial, of pain and joy.

Where once there was nothing but death, there is now the will to live, where once there was pain there is now life-giving anger, where once there was a broken heart, there is a heart I've mended with my own two hands.

I know know what I must do, I know now how I must push on. I know that I must use the pain that I've felt rather than wallow in it's agony. I know that I must put my past to use, combined with the determination sent strait from the fire within.

I once laid in a pool of my own misery, surrounded, drowning and dying in a flood of my own pain. I was prepared to die there, willing to drown in the bed that I had made. But one day I opened my eyes and saw a new world before me, I saw the world that wounded me and then I saw what I must do.

I see it so clearly now, that if I don't march forth and march forth with pride that I will fail to achieve my goals and die in the misery I wallowed in. I must pull myself out of that pit and trudge forward through the cold and dark eternity to the lights in the distant future. I must dry myself off in the dust that is at my feet and push onward, onward, onward still.

Before I go, I must fill a flask with the water of my pain. So when I forget from whence I came I can sip it and feel it's bitter flavor burning in the back of my throat.

I know I'll need a reminder, a hint at where the fire was born. For should I forget and the fire be put out, I will be lost roaming the cold countryside with dust beneath my feet and a black sky overhead. I will be lost, alone, and for once, scared…

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