Of ignition

Peeking cautiously outside, it feels cold and empty. A hope-forsaken place once trodden by life in its wholeness. Every corner once pulsing, screaming and moaning with intense desires and plans of all sorts, now are left to the hunger of the dark. Only the soft wind fills the air, lifting the increasing layers of dust.

But the storm that forced me to retreat has ceased, and the storm inside me, the volcano inside me, endured the pressure. Everything was safe and protected, the same way a mother holds her child unharmed.

 My flames endured. My flames prevailed. They are raging inside.

I'm back.