Pyrrhic Victory

The words tickle my lips as my blood boils dangerously. What few words it would take to dismantle my opponent. I see the fatal flaws in her argument and the hypocrisy crawling just beneath her skin. The crowd feasts off of her lies and celebrate, but I stand comfortably, knowing that victory is around the corner if I want to take it.

My mind hearkens back to my early debate days. My wit moves at the speed of light and leaves my enemies blind sided. My words start fires that burn all of the bridges behind me. Forward. It is too late to look back at the destruction.

I burned a hole in the window of her soul with my stare, and the crowd went silent. I spilled the words into the microphone passionately, and watched the surprise grace her features and her face scorch red. She stood rigid on the pyre of my words, burning at the podium in front of a crowd that roared my battle cry.

Promises built on bases of wood burn quickly and hopes are suffocated by the ash. The people are choking on it. I might not be over qualified, but I'm tired of watching them breath in the soot. One more fire, and I'll stop using my words to manipulate things in my favor.

You can't see it now, but I will raise us from the ashes of their lies. Even if I have to scorch the Earth to bring new life.