Sunday, December 21, 2025

Worthy of an Ode

The air around transformed into fire 
Consumed to burn, burned to consume
'I'm not this, this is not me', fought the air
An Identity in trance, blinded in gloom

It's world got tipsy, beliefs in crisis
The air laid bare it's only Truth 
It's existence, a gift of nothingness
A surrender past it's rightful wrath

The time in "air-years" felt like decades
A notion of faith in action in auto-mode
Destroying atom by atom a million facades
Birthing heat and light worthy of an ode.

1 comment:

  1. This didn’t feel like just a poem—it felt like a lived experience. The emotions, the confusion, and the transformation are expressed so honestly. Truly touching.

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