Locked in. Locked up.
Can I see the end?
A fire that wants to burn and grow.
Buckets of water try to douse the flame, but only increase the pain.
Somewhere, buried, an ember still flickers.
Quietly it burns, gaining strength, building until it is a fire again.
Confidence grows, excitement, ready to explode!
Here comes the water again.
Chained, can not move, only able to watch as the jealous water douses the life of the fire.
When will it end?
Is there still an ember?
The ashes are deep.
The ember is buried. Determined to live.
This time, though, the ember is smothered by the ashes.
It needs to breathe. Who will give me breath?!
I want to burn. To live.
To be carried out of the ashes.
Breathe new life. Give me a chance to grow.
To feed the flames of purpose.
Who will stop the water from dousing the fire?
The flames of purpose must have time to grow to become more than the water.
How will the rings be extended? To reach more fuel?
Keeps the fire in isolation.
Waters of jealousy starve.
Ashes of regret smother.
The ember should have died a long time ago.
Weak, tired, trapped.
It knows that its purpose is to be a fire and burn.
It sees not how.
It won’t die. Not yet. Not ever.
There is a way…