The Fruitful Mire Poem by Chris Schleier, Jr.

The Fog and fire...

fruitful mire.

The pit maligned.

Who and why?

Wait and cry....

When and where?

Everywhere....

But what a beauty, cause, and duty

to

define or be defined.

Thick in fog of pain....

An Abel of Cain.

Silent shrieking....

Darkened night....

Daunted fright....

Failure great?

Rise and wait?

To make misery, or parody

of

horrors of the conscience?

Ever searing flames....

Our purpose it claims,

scalding to the core....

Rips and tears....

Silent tears....

Scorching heat....

Claim defeat?

Surrender purpose, and concourses

of

able liberations?

The fog and fire....

Fruitful mire.

Rich in power.

Fall or fly?

Live or die?

Fear or dare?

Choice or snare?

The fog and fire ne'er desire

to

define or be defined!