Come in with your fire
born from and for passion
And when they come to you,
tall, erect and casting a shadow,
under them, and compress
your soul into your eyes.
Open them wide and stare
until it haunts them,
the hired hands who took pleasure
and stripped it of meaning,
who tampered with a gift of desire
and made it rigid methodology.
But with all the essence in your glare,
say: I will not let you kill me.
I will thrive outside of you.
I will thrive when you are outside of me.
You were never truly inside me.
And watch it make their egos crumble
how you passed through them unchanged;
how they left you untouched, undented.
Go out with the same fire
they could neither,
despite their greatest efforts,
kindle nor seize.