Birth

I burn.

Give me rain,

to quench my thirst.

Give me water,

to extinguish those fires,

that are consuming me.

Bring me relief,

cool and succour.

I cannot, hold on much longer.

I must, find a way.

I have to, create and birth,

this creature born of my desire.

I must, bring it forth,

into this world, lest it die,

unborn born inside of me.

Lest it to rot, shrivel and shrink,

causing me greater pain

of regret, of what could have been,

than the pangs of birth,

painful yet glorious.

An ode to life,

renewing itself forever,

seeking to expand,

change form,

new expression

at every turn.