Submitted by Nicholas Catron
Let me awaken this fire inside.
This burning anima, steeped deep
in life at the center, whispers it’s
ubiquity. Insistent yet quiescent.
What essence of me would I have
left, if I never learned to shine
through this aphotic life? No
time to embrace the apathy,
no signposts here in the mire.
Just faces left alone in disguise,
rest for the wicked and masks
for the tired.
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Photo credit: Mire by Jill Basham