. .

May God grant thee a short and uneventful life,
for if He chooses to kindle the flame inside thee
It may very well scorch the Earth.


I remember November 11th 1987 very well.
Thou still did not exist
and I was but a child.
On that fateful day I created thee.


I drew your form on the fine white sand
of a beach far away from here.
The gentle sea threatened to erase you, as it eventually did,


but not before I conjured up your contours
and blew in thy grainy left ear.
Thou rose, stood your ground and smiled at me.


Years later, thou were born out of flesh
but I could not see, the embers within thee
had not waned.


Thou shrieked and shrieked and shrieked
when threat of putting thee away was uttered.
Thou screamed and fought and ran away
and ´tis when thou were merely a baby.


Away, my fire
my dangerous rose.