tHe BoY wHo BuRnEd

October 21, 2013
There was a boy who loved,
To burn-
Every day,

He tied himself to a cross,
Mimicking martyrs,
Burning himself alive.

Every day he blocked his ears,
With wax-
He blocked out the sounds,

Of the hate,
And curses-
But missed the hope in the noise,

That he blocked out-
He brought himself attention,
In a spotlight-

But he cried when alone.
He burned himself,
Like a torch-

Like a witch,
Like a beacon-
Like a saint, like a virgin-

Lying about rendezvous,
Straddling a cross,
On fire-

The fire hurt,
But he loved to burn-
It brought people to witness,

The life,
Of those who struggle,
Between life and death.

No one saw any tears,
Because the fire dried them,
Until he cried no more-
I'm a martyr.
I bring the world,
To see our hell-

So the fire burned him,
The cross fueled the inferno,
His hair and body smoked-

The fire burned out-
The boy was curled up in the ashes-
With his face the color of ashes-

His soul was burned out,
He was spent.
His fire was out-

And the world had moved on.





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This article has 3 comments. Post your own now!

freeperson said...
Dec. 6, 2013 at 2:49 pm
Kereepy :)
 
Aramis_Lucetti replied...
Mar. 16, 2014 at 5:13 pm
Thank you for the feed back :)
 
freeperson replied...
Mar. 17, 2014 at 3:12 pm
But understandable :)
 
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