Sometimes the torch you carry is so blinding
That you forget there is a sun
But without the sun there would be no fire
No passion no ambition no drive
To become one
And you have to learn
To touch that torch to water,
The steam rising around you
But instead of obscuring
It brings clarity
And when the fog clears
The only shining beacon left
Is the sun itself
The glorious power of its incandescence
Bathing you in healing rays
Your skin flushes with heat
Your inner core becomes molten
You realize that you are the sun
You alone are one
And you promise yourself that next time
You won’t carry any more torches.
Miranda Rey 