Fire of Anxiety
I watched every twig, every stick,
carefully placed -
I watched
Every branch left its mark,
playing its part like a symphony—
melodies whispering notes of peace,
while harmonies voice the dissonant echoes of war--
So subtle
I watched
Every limb
dividing, thriving
slowly depriving every ounce of oxygen
from the air it never once tasted,
but now hoards mouthfuls as its own.
The period of starvation ends.
It calls, a sudden, about-face.
Melodies of peace and harmonies of war converge.
The time of devouring has come.
Sounds once calming,
lullabies laced with steel—
lulling into hypnotic despair--
disguised as knights in shinning armor
now set a fire.
And I burn
I watched my wooden death bed crafted
by my own hands.
The question remains
Will I continue to burn?
Or will I rise with the phoenix from the ashes?
Copyright © Rebecca Kiser | Year Posted 2025
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