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Controlled Chaos
My radio buzzes.
Your metallic, distorted voice
still rings in my ears. Breathe in.
That’s the last piece of evidence
that I’m not alone. Hold it. Stay controlled.
Elemental surges hiding in black
cloud my vision and my thoughts.
Breathe out.
“Keep going!” I hear.
Just breathe.
Steam and Embers wage war
with Smoke and Fire,
My unseen world crashes around me.
Splinters become fireballs, raining down from above.
Our progress prepares itself for
the final attack. A door opens.
Breathe in.
A crack opens to a crevasse, and the battle begins.
We enter the room, knights clad in tan and reflective orange.
One last pull lets our weapon of choice flow,
the pressure threatens to topple us over.
Breathe out
The twisted, hellish inferno
Breathe in
Consumes with an insatiable thirst.
Breathe out
Our gloved hands and masked faces hide
inside the battle within.
Stay strong, almost there.
Our shadowed defeat, hidden among billows of smoke,
finds its way through, and burns through the dark.
A charred world shows success,
it is at least still there
among the wreckage.
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My inspiration comes from what I consider to be a fairly atypical family profession, firefighting. My father was a firefighter since well before I was born; I practically grew up at the station in our town, a "firehouse brat", if you will. I am well on my way to following in his footsteps and have a great deal of respect for this profession. My intention is to share a this unique view of a "burn room", a room inside a building where both the fire and poem are located, with others.