My Flame is Their Flame


Engulfed within the depths of my soul remains my only survival defense

In every breath I inhale, through the exhaustion gripping and tightening around my half beating heart lies nothing more than the reason for why I continue

Violently fighting. Emotionally trapped. Solely imprisoned.

I’m held hostage struggling to be free, only to be fettered with the grey shadows that haunt and mock their existance and standing

I too will never succomb to the reason they have become broken

Fight the darkness or die in the darkness, this is all that floats through my head as smoke begins to whirl fast around me, separating me from the illumination of my only weapon

The only weapon I've come to known. Helping others.

Blindly stumbling, straining to continue, I crawl on, catching a glare of the distance

I am ready to fight harder, not just for me, but those struggling as well.

This isn’t the end… it never will be.

Me. Yes. Me. I never die out.

Face to face with possible defeat I sense the burning that runs continuously…mellifluously…disseminating strength throughout my veins

This violent weakening war is not over, but has only just commenced


This isn’t the end.

I am ready and I will fight harder than before. For you. For her. For those defenseless to the world as we know it.

Sensations of tingling and burning merge; my soul blazes extensively and is immediately reminded of who I remain to be. Who I will always be in the eyes and need of others. A warrior.

Combative to the mist and suffocation, I slowly walk.

My only actions and choices made through strength and courage, courage and strength towards the one and only weapon I can ever count on, the only weapon some will ever count on.

My flame


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741