Darkness envelops the night,
Clinging like the humid air.
A minor spark,
Unchanging against the unknown.
It grows like a flower in bloom,
Starting like a birthday candle,
Enlarging into a bonfire,
Heat thrown from the flames,
Gnawing away at the darkness.
It consumes all around it,
Trading the air,
For passion and life.
Like an uncontrollable beast,
It hungers for more.
Soon there is nothing left,
But a driving force for more.
More than what there is,
More than what it has.
Just like the Darkness,
Which started with nothing,
The Flames,
End with the same.Steven Krauss-Akins ©2015
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PoesieA collection of poems from emotions to ideas and everything in between.