Tea of Life

Close to the tea of life, the steam is most visible.
Youthful. 
At its most vibrant 
And at its most violent.
The heat is overwhelming, scorching. Unbearable and undeniable. 

The steam begins to rise. It expands. Unstoppable.
Growing
It thinks it's flourishing.
But little does it know, it's actually perishing.
Rising faster and faster, seeking naively a glory it cannot see.

The steam is at its highest, however not yet free.
Fading.
On its journey to oblivion. 
It's too late, this is not what it was fighting for.
It thinks to itself, why am I even here?

Rising higher, it's now a part of our atmosphere.
Dying
Starved of warmth and starved of intimacy
Indistinguishable and diminished 
Realising now it shouldn't have chased air
Should've stayed close to what it could rely 
Should've stayed close, to the tea of life.

The writer is a grade 11 student of Green Dale International School.