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Solution (a dark poem)

Solution

Death is a box of matches,
to light in ecstasy.
That makes me none but an
eager, curious wick.

The wax is and never will be,
pain that buries me.
Memories that attempt to smother,
what life can't offer me.

Death melts away all that,
the fire asks nothing but my oxygen,
I give Death it, and Death giveth me,
my final, bright solution.

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Comments


  • corrupt angel
    August 8

    Edit | Reply
    "Death is a box of matches,
    to light in ecstasy."

    Way to start off a poem! I loved those opening lines. It's so inventive and it really caught my attention and lured me in. This piece is beautiful through and through. I loved it! Great write!


  • AlexandraHamilton
    August 7
    Edit | Reply
    Wow, I like this. It explores and explains the idea of Death in an interesting way.