Confessions of an Arsonist


I can feel it growing in me

A need

An urge

An irresistible instinct


I can already hear the flames

The cackle

The spit

Of a glorious fire


I feel the desperation

To burn

Burn it all

I smile to myself


Theres no denying the hunger

Driving me

Pulling me

Pushing the lighter and oil into my hands


I know the fire attacking the wood

Will cleanse me

Make me whole

That’s it… that building.


I need to feel pure again

My baptism

Baptism of fire

Sprinkle oil on the abandoned building


I stare at the quiet calm sky above me

The excitement building

The anticipation

As I watch the stars


The fire calls my name,

Light the lighter

Watch the flame

I must answer its call


And as I throw it.. and watch the fire start

I breathe deep

Inhaling the first ashes

Feel the power and heat as it grows


I feel alive again

As I turn away

My back to the pillar of flames

That ignites the fire in me


I walk home satisfied… smiling

An orange red glow

The heat of the sun

Softly loosening its embrace

For Now.


About saharsalman

Aspiring poet. Spectator of life. Words of Whim.
This entry was posted in Fire, Illness, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to Confessions of an Arsonist

  1. ModWestMuse says:

    Powerful and evocative imagery 🙂
    May I ask what was the motivation for this poem?

    Perhaps a future poem on water…?

  2. sounds like someone is really bitter inside.

  3. words4jp says:

    this is wow! i cannot see bitterness – i see a strong desire to do something – something that is so strong from within. i suppose there can be bitter intent, but i am not seeing or feeling it:)

    • saharsalman says:

      For myself all i will say is that i wanted to show an arsonist as someone who cannot control himself rather than a hardened criminal.. the psychological element!

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