Fuel

By Hunter Keyser

Inner Fuel,

Sometimes Gastric Gasoline,

Sometimes Tummy Sunlight,

Never air.

In each of our own narratives,

Cause.

In each of our own narratives,

Our two-dimensionality acknowledged,

Minor characters have one motive which serves us,

But as subplots tangle and twist

And the camera zooms on Shopkeeper Number Three,

We see her passions as well;

No action without reason,

However deep in our chasmic unconscious,

Every evil derived from pain.

The fuel.

It’s like original sin,

Sealed at the naval

Ever churning round its axis,

Now expanding, demanding energy be exerted,

Volatile, motivated, colorful,

Visceral,

The seat of the shadow.

None truly comprehends

His gut’s ambition,

Yet no action taken undirected by it.

He without story,

He without life.

Duty

Pain

Will to prevail

Constantly running from sadness

Only truly escaping when sadness

Is confronted and transmuted,

…………..The common thread of humanity

……………………….Rise, Fall

………………………………….The End.