Playing With Fire

sitting down in the basement with a can of gas, a box of matches & a dream--- where you are going no one is asking what will come of it no one will know & how exciting your life may soon get, only you are about to find out--- all the whimpering got you nowhere & all the attempts to free yourself through others did nothing but prolong the inevitable--- so here we are, you & i, the gas can & the match-holder, striker & strikee--- and there are those that say these things need not be spoken of but the world is a cacophony of ironic beauties, a plethora of chaos & no-win situations, and a place for all creative minds to find a way to flourish as best as they can--- so this is where your path has brought you & though the moment at hand presents the possibility of fatality, there is part of you that feels this was a romance meant for two---strike the match, kiss the wood & let the flame drop, sweet pouring light & heat round the circle--- whoosh.