Stomped out ash
Stifled, burning embers extinguished, spark-less, lifeless and caged
We wither away, rotting, rotting like we too are being consumed
By more than what life has thrown, by a society igniting matches
Then shouting down that we burn too brightly, stomp him out, make her cease
Fire that cannot be controlled shall be removed, taken elsewhere
To burn through centuries of kindling in far away places
And the government, they hope the smoke never seeps home
That all that remains is dust, stomped down so deep we forget what it felt like
To briefly be burning, alight, consumed by more than cast away decay
But even specks sparkle in sunlight, if the wind wafts in just right
We may float, illuminated by the source of all heat
Remembering what we could be, before the boot crushed us beneath it.
Ashes to ashes, flame begets flame, suppressing fires only makes the burn
Uncontrolled, unceasing like how one may yearn
Simply to live untethered to social niceties, to clocks
That yield and rank us too much, always creating shocks
At how young a fire can be, how kindling doesn’t need a century’s suppression
As youth carries with it one’s first oppression, the boot’s first footprint.