Fearing fire

How’s one to know,

When incandescence will show?

Obsolete has become a pattern,

Who even takes the time, to look to Saturne?

Blinding flames in her eyes,

But I still turn to my lies,

Even when the comfort of ashes,

Could heal all of my gashes.

Why can’t I support conflagration?

When it brings me redemption?

When combustion in a wildfire,

Could be the path to what I desire.

My spirit can’t seem to meet my pain.

What will I do if I refuse to suffer?

Nothing can come if I am chained,

To the life I’ve spent in a smolder.

I need to meet my striking inferno,

And let it paint in iridescent colors,

The world I’ve emptied of flowers,

For the peace of the afterglow.