Burned to Ashes

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At first it was a burning desire. She had stolen my heart. Then she stole my peace. Now she is stealing my essences. It is just a burning something now. Just burn; shriveling to ashes. My essence, like some sort to hydrocarbon being used to fuel someone else’s prosperity. As if I was the middle east and imperialists came to ravage the oil deep beneath my surface. The essence of the land.

The burning is of nothing like before. It is hellfire perhaps. The burning of my soul. Or is it the burning of jealousy which consumes me? Are there even any ashes to commemorate my loss? Can these ashes become like a phoenix and rise again to soar to new heights?

Perhaps you are the fire which actually burns. Consuming my heart, then my character, then my peace, and now my essence and my dreams. Why is has this burning become a part of me?

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