As the explosion withered away.
I still stood in that smoke.
Wasn't it burn or be burnt?
Always a double-edged sword it was.
I assumed,
From the ashes will rise a new me.
But this new me, still had those burn marks.
Those petty, needless scars.
On flesh, carved bones.
Pity.
Sympathy.
The fuel and lighter of my life.
Together they raved.
Together they raged.
A fire.
An eternal fire.
Infernal as it may seem,
But they wrote those burnt dark pages of my life.
For the gods may say,
Hell was on fire,
But not of it's own.
"Glad you made out alive."
They wondered about.
It was strange,
How did they find out?
Still believing the unbelievable.
Still trying to figure out the unfathomable.
I sank into that blissful sleep.
And slowly my vivid emotions smouldered.
In with that eternal fire,
My infernal desire.
~ Amit Kumar Gangad
