Ouroboros

a piece of advice regarding fire

spreads as wildly as it ever did,

burning through lobes and librettos.

exoteric to the point of adage 

- and yet - 

just as common: conscious ignorance!

seeing eyes blinded,

hearing ears turned deaf -

a steep price to pay

to push desire over mountains sherpas circumvent!

a people whose icy surroundings

demand flames' creation 

to extend exposure to the elements

remain vigilant; 

untended fires hold danger even in snow.

- and yet -

even the vigilant turn to fire to fuel their engines,

stepping into the fiery ring,

inviting the cremation of living, breathing flesh, 

expecting the warmth of desire 

to desublimate into something tangible.

is it ignorant to step into the fire,

sentient of your body's fate?

years ago, men heaped honors upon this ilk -

we speak of them in hushed voices:

those whose lives were sacrificed to build legends.

who has the authority to determine desires' value

and determine those pursuits eligible for martyrdom?

deep down do i "know" my desires are unworthy,

- and yet - 

i recollect no lesson teaching me such.

what, who, when, why, where:

the source of this framework that guides me?

innate or injected?

how do i question the intangible?

is sublimation an impossible track to retrace?

questions birth and consume one another - 

a reproductive cycle my mind cannot follow or interpret.

such complexity within the simplicity - 

i fear to follow my desires down this path

of knowledge and forgetfulness

that ignorance shoves me down.

- and yet -