Wick and Flame
The Blackstar to my Fast Car. F- Ziggy. Conceptualized, written and published 7/7/25 - 7/8/25.
The stake is not good enough. It is only one place to burn. I am on fire here and everywhere. Why nail me to the cross? Why hold me under the water? You are the endless one. I am the flame on the wick of greatness. I dance toward the dynamite. Pledge your vote to my chest. Deep in the heart of things. Where madness and masochism meet. Where love joins surrender and the ship throws itself toward the dome. Are you ever coming home? I’ve left some dinner in the microwave and a spare towel on the back of the bathroom door. Make sure you shower if you’re climbing out of the cockpit and back into bed. My bed. Do you not believe in luck or fate? The rolling of a dice or the turning of a card? An Ace to join your two Kings. But what’s the use when you’re dying for a Queen? Sometimes it’s better to bust than to fold. In those cases it would take a miracle. Keep your luck and fate. I’ll choose the path of faith instead. To have and to hold. To wed and to bed. Perhaps we’re both dead? I’ll keep the handkerchief into which I wept. Bury my face into the pillow and hold my breath. Has this all been a test? I can only pray that I passed it. If not, then perhaps I’ll run? As Satan snaps at my feet and licks his lips, then my only hope is that I can outlast him. Jesus Christ. I’ll fall down. Jesus Christ. I’ll get back up. Because I will burn for Him now and in eternity and know that He bought and paid for me. Every mistake. Every retake. Every heartbreak. He will gild into a scene worth keeping. A masterpiece by the time I make the grave. So, hold the credits and dim the lights, because the show isn’t over yet. And neither is He. There’s always going to be another take on me. To be believed? I have to be seen.
As always from you this is really good