A Birth of Fire

I see the boy there,
Yes, the one with bright
Eyes staring at the white
Light above. He has just
Been born, barely a few minutes
Ushered into our world.
Welcome to our world.

He screams presently and flails
His arms about recklessly.
They wave and claw endlessly
At the air around him. What
Invisible foe torments him so?
Hush, baby, don’t cry.

I tell him I will protect him,
Fight the monsters for him,
Lay waste to their carcasses,
Never will they bring him harm.
But I know I am lying.
One day my spear arm
Will grow slaggard, my shield
Will crack and splinter before
Our world’s searing flames.
What is a boy to do out in this world?
Our hopeless world?

His cries pierce the firmament,
Harkening back to a time long gone.
There was only darkness then,
But at least we could not see
The horrors that lay beyond our reach.
Defending, I have grown weary still.
My eyes yet droop and cheeks sag.
One day, this boy will have to fend
For himself in this wild world of ours.

Yet it is so that from the torturous,
Volcanic ashes of our lives blossom
The most brilliant blooms. The boy.
He stirs, turns to me, eyes wide, eyes
Watery with silent affection. He struggles
Not now. Quietly he huddles into a ball,
Safe now. Yes, safe from the world.

From the void my death leaves, he shall
Thrive anew, born from ashes, molded
From its still burning embers. We
Are not lost. The world is not lost.
We fight on in our world with the birth
Of this boy. My boy. Our boy.