Finally

just like anything that you did in the past
you started like
a
gasoline spilled
on the cemented road
and a matchstick lighted
it and the fire ran
like a will o'wisp
but as usual it was
just a very short
procedure
of a flame
that once lighted
your
paths of pain
your wish for relief
and then everything

simply turned off automatically
and you
began to do something
new & strange

that which shall not cease
your way of
breathing life to another life......

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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