Four Little Words

Followed by more words.

I

will

not

survive.

    My fear of my own mortality keeps the pen blazing; my thoughts fuel the fire.

One day, there will be but a flame. The tiniest gust of wind, the slightest hint of moisture is all it will take...

The wind- my last breath.

The moisture- doubt.

All there will be left to do is to watch it flicker and die.

I will not go peacefully. I wish to scorch the earth; to leave my mark. I burn for this.

Reviews

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

I burn for this............what a gem and so powerful!