A lion standing ground
A standout in a crowd
From winning, achievement,
Success and fame,
Comes a flicker,
A fire that can't be tamed.
It flips and flicks
In contained delight.
It's bright color and shape
Stand out against night.
Night is the feeling
That makes one cold.
Pride is the fire
That grows more and more bold.
With pride comes more
Than a warm, happy heart.
Confidence emerges
From the dark.
Most are untouched by corruption and greed.
But the flame can grow quickly, and hastily take lead.
The flame burns bright
And pride turns aside,
To reveal a horror
That has struck it's time.
Beware of pride that kindles too quickly,
For flame is fast and can easily turn sickly.
Well, that poem just careened downtown, huh? Well, I hope that made sense, me describing pride as a flame, and if you add too much fire, it sorta turns evil. So, too much pride can make one use that power wrongly? y'know? Please show your appreciation (or hate) by sending a comment or message! Thank you! :-}
YOU ARE READING
Swept Ashore
PoetryBe swept away in the ocean of poetry, wash ashore in a sanctuary of words, a place where you will be safe from the harsh world of sanity, catch a breath of the sea breezy air, twinged with the insanity that only writers know.
