Paceless Flame

a poem about my own ambition

a flame that burns at no set pace
no idea where it’s gonna be at the end of the race.
sometimes it burns up towards the sky with a fiery passion
leaving everything nearby ashen.
at other points it is barely an ember,
always ready to slip into a deep slumber.
yet it mostly remains somewhere in-between
two parts torn asunder, split in twain
and not being at the end of the spectrum fills the flame with shame
making it feel bad for itself again, even though it knows that it can
always force itself to one end again, even if it causes the flame pain
but that pain just fuels the flame, fills it with determination.