I observe the space around me. Dark, lifeless, stubborn and empty. This emptiness I'm in the middle of, is there a way out?

There. A spark in the distance. A glimmer of hope. It fades.

I am in this suffocating darkness, so cold and hard. Where do I go from here?

Warmth radiates from somewhere deep beyond this universe of black.

Excuse me, anyone here? Someone? Anyone?
And here I continue to sit. (Is this even solid ground I'm sitting on? Am I even here? Is this just a dream? Or is this just me trapped within myself?)

There. I see it again. The spark. No, the flame. It flashes of red, orange and yellow. It shares the warmth. I comes nearer to me. I can almost taste the burning passion.

It touches me. I am consumed; I glow of fiery red; I reek of heated passion. Yet, I am not burnt.

I am the flame. Ignited, I roar with pride and zeal. There was no pain, just release. I am free.

Ignited, I bid darkness goodbye. Ignited, I let my deepest fears burn, my long-forgotten hopes and dreams shine.

Labels: writing the unwritten