The Art Of Burning

 
a solitary figure stands lost in thought
shadows cross my path and I usher them on their way
they are part of the scene
talking to my Father I take note of his mastery
 
I ask what is wrong with me.
 
we seem flawed or at least I do
 
nature merrily goes down her path with fangs bared and venom spewing
I follow after the witches before me  
knowing I burned for it in days past
 
you stir inside me
with the need to touch the dark
and I wonder dare I?
you even encourage me to master my skills
 
I wonder if this is a test.
 
I sculpt the airs and spell
a wind corrupt of vision blows
I utter curses under my hushed breath
for the devastating truth, I was made to be beholden
like so many women before me
it is with great pain I travail for freedom
 
will I burn yet again?
 
with knowledge out in the open but ever so secret
I turn and close my eyes
what has been done can't be undone
 
it is my nature to burn