The Man With the Matchstick in His Hand

365 Days of Creativity

day fourty three

This one’s for those with fires in hearts

I’m calling to those that reach for the stars
clutching the flame, a trillion small parts.
they pulse and they burn, destruction is art.

We follow the man with matchstick in hand,

his lantern of dreams alone in the land,

it eats up and burns the Utopian sands,

a blind man can see the lies on demand.

This one’s for those with fires in hearts,

who lash out and scream and break through the bars.

pulsing to sin, with demons depart.

A tip of the hat to souls who have scars.

The reaper of light, he exudes pure command, 

leads us away from the holy land.

but neither is hell part of his plan.

he travels to limbo, taking his stand.

This one’s for those with heat in their eyes,

the spirits who in the darkness they thrive.
Never to follow, they grasp their own light.

Lone werewolves and soldiers posed for the fight.

 A master of men, a leader of troupes

he gathers the weak, broken and abused.

Under his cape he hides broken slews.

He’s darker than night, this Nosferatu.

This one’s for those with heat in their eyes,

the arrows of lightning, not fearing to die.

with dagger of flame we fight through the night

alongside the demons, defeating the blight.

 This man who has stolen all of the used,

he comes upon those who have broken through.

With all flames in hand, his face can be viewed.

the tales of his sins, on his face are tattooed.