Submissions by SageRoyale (Royale)

Oh, what a relief
The sense of peace and ambition
A champagne sofa that smells of roses
How tempting, how secure
A base, a landing, for when I've stolen time
Time is fake, but exists briefly
Outside in a bustling spice market
Paprika fills my roaring lungs
Stinging from the dry, sunburnt sand
Kicked up on the coast of immortality
A wave of ultramarine, disallowing the blind at sea
The further you go, the farther I'll be
Down the streets of ochre
To a city of green
A sense of purpose, action, means
Means to an end,...

Why?
Why do we pour sand on a fire? Why must artificial ash be deposited among the matches?

Why?
Why can't we let the firebugs flit among straw, the arsonists pour gasoline, the dragons breathe their deplorable words?

Why?
Why can't they do their jobs? Why must we fool them with paper flames, sparks with an "off" button, bonfires with a light switch?

If we cannot handle the flame, we should not have stacked so much dry kindling and handed off the lighter.

Let it burn, if you must tempt us.

Few concepts are sweeter than victory, though I suppose a crisped defeat will have to do.

For you, of course. Loss is not in my vocabulary.