I am burning and will not stop

by You Have My Word

  I gave you my words and you burned the pages of my scripture. I gave you the ink, my veins, my pen, this pain, my peace. You left me for ashes and cinder and matches at the start of an inferno. 

I am wild fire. I burn through cities that have never seen light. I burn through hearts that have never known warmth or hurt. I won’t apologise. I won’t look back. I won’t cower. I won’t ask for pardon. I won’t stop. 

I burn, forging my own way – my own form in this fire. I strike while it’s hot. I will brand my own name shaping blades from the furnace. Scathing. Sure. Smooth. Silent. I won’t make a scene. There won’t be a sound when metal collides with bone. 

Here lies the sword and hurt in the fire of burning scripture. I am a pilgrim rewriting my gospel.