Poetry

I Played With Fire

Note – This poem is structured in such a manner that, the number of lines increases in each stanza

I once played with fire.

 

I played with fire,
Thinking, not all fires could burn me.

 

I played with fire again!
And felt its power.
To char, to destroy.

 

I played with fire.
Lured,
Ever so maliciously,
Into that deep golden glow.

 

I played with fire,
This time, too close!
Unlike moths, I didn’t die.
I lay broken, wincing.
Swearing never to return.

 

I played with fire,
But the pains vanished,
Wounds faded, hopes rekindled,
I went back.
The thing with fire and love;
You always go back.

 

I played with fire.
And I had played too much
To cry, to care,
That I began to see beyond,
The pain, the wounds.
There was a lesson.
There always had been.

 

As I played with fire,
Hopes evaporated.
The heart sunk into an abyss.
There were no oozing wounds but,
charred bones,
And the smell of an end.
The sun seemed to have set forever
As I was turned to ashes.

 

I did play with fire.
But I emerged.
Every single time. Yes!
Born from my ashes,
Renewed by my experiences.
Torn between remembering
And forgetting;
The alluring glow of the fire,
And the scorching heat.

 

When you play with fire,
It consumes you.
But listen to me!
You will emerge.
Wait if you must.
Sleep if it gives you solace.
Hold on and hold strong!
Because you will emerge!
Cleaner, stronger
More determined than ever!

 

I played with fire,
Until I became one.
~ Ranjini Sankar

 


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2 thoughts on “I Played With Fire

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