Burn like a tree
Fire in the sinew
So many times I've wished
But no more
First steps are painful
Stumbling, scraping, irreversible
It starts with a thought
Which starts with a feeling
Which is in the blood
And that first breath is like crashing through the atmosphere
A searing knife through the placid blue

ForestSong ForestSong
18-21, F
2 Responses Jul 14, 2010

Hey thanks :) This is one of the many spontaneous poems that I've written sleep deprived at 3am ish.<br />
I didn't really think of it as ambiguous (well obviously since it was a personal jotting), but I see that now and that's pretty cool.

I liked this one. It's mysterious and gives the reader a chance to make what he/she whises of it. :)