The oldest flame
With golden hair
Flickers brave
In dancing air
Alone, aloft
The highest peak
In silent breath
Its soul to seek.
Witness to wonder
In timeless age
Trapped within
An invisible cage
Its voice is strong
Its motive weak
Its inner self
Pursues to seek.
Nature in
A swirling rage
Its cruel silence
To behave
Its seeking eyes
Caruse the night
Its beating heart
Its stance to fight.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: August 23rd, 2025 01:48
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 36
- Users favorite of this poem: Priya Tomar, Damaso
Offline)
Comments4
Spicy melody....
Wonderful !
most kind, appreciated and thanks
Most welcome !
There is great cadance and meter to this poem that takes the reader on a hypnotic journey.
thanking you, appreciated
My pleasure
For me "The oldest flame" evokes a lone, golden‑crowned fire standing defiant at a wind‑lashed peak that is timeless, watchful, and weathered by centuries. Your verses give it both majesty and fragility: a voice clear yet motives uncertain, a spirit caged by the unseen. As nature swirls in rage and silence around it, the flame’s eyes keep searching, its heart pounds, and its stance holds . It is a vivid emblem of the will to endure against forces that would snuff it out.
most kind, appreciated thanks
Most welcome Norman🙏🏻🕊️
Rik
beautifully worded - thanks for sharing..enjoyed
appreciated, many thanks
You are welcome 🙏🏼
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.