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The Nymph and His Oak

I Set This Fire

By Dexter SimsPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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You stay planted on the ground with such insight and vigor.

Your roots run farther than my mind can wonder or deliver.

I pondered if you'd chase me.

So I leave you in haste.

Through my broken glass I left you, displaced.

You were my oak,

who I scorched while you stool in place.

And just like that,

your forest nymph was gone.

Left.

Without a trace.

I charred what we had,

to ashes and rubble.

My thumb to the flint.

Turn.

Burn.

I only smell trouble.

I will fuel this hate fire,

with every last breath.

A fight,

to ember.

A shout,

to sizzle.

I will remember.

I won't let these flames rest.

We even introduced water,

to calm the fury.

Who would have known,

that would only leave the flames more blurry.

You stood blacked by my stokes.

So hard we try,

to help me grow.

With sharp winds,

Just for the leaves to die.

When it was time to end.

I couldn't breath,

only choke.

It was the fire I wanted,

I provoke.

Choke on the flames of my own design.

When the ruby light settled,

I was far to jaded.

To the green on your leaves,

The vines that were braided.

All the emerald,

had finally faded.

And as I turn back for just a moment.

To witness my destruction.

To this forest nymphs who could only see what was pervaded,

No obstruction.

I whispered.

To dissuade,

was not a solution.

Our fire uncovered only deep truths,

I revealed this illusion.

nature poetry
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About the Creator

Dexter Sims

When you learn to speak, use your words.

And when you use your words, create your voice.

My motto, " Don't let them tell you who you are. Show them who you are. "

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