What we seek is fanaticism

Fanaticism was growing
Fanatics were not
Ink spattered, here and there was not
Marked, dried, nothing worked right
Wind and sand, nobody else found home
Every tint on the canvas,
Every foot on the path, misplaced
Sometimes there’s a fire
That rises, swells, wants home
But there’s no home for fanatics
There’s no home for fanaticism
And yet, there will be fire
And a smile will doze it off
And yet, there will be fire
Because it won’t die,
Only disappear for a moment
Only to show up again
In fanatics, in their fanaticism
As long as there’s life
There’s fanaticism
There’s fever
There’s tale and madness
Madness for that what lasts a season
And dissolves into veins, rises, tightens
Gruelling, blackening, cooling fire
Cools off at the end, and by then, a new fanaticism matters


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