Thoughts of a Pyromaniac

Despite the destruction the flames still leap

Nothing more to burn, no more lives to reap.

The tears that course down reddened cheeks

Will, no doubt, flow for countless weeks.

 

The beauty is missed by all who stare

The splendour of the orangey flare.

The crackle and spit as the wood ignites

The sparks flying up to dizzying heights.

 

My mind it leaps with each bright flash

It sings with joy at the fall of ash.

How can they watch and yet not perceive           

The euphoric dance of flames that weave?

 

My eyes do sting and my heart does pound

The roar in my ears the only sound

As all around is swiftly drenched

My exquisite friend is slowly quenched.

 

Until next time my lovely one

I promise that the time will come.

You will, once more, soar to the sky

And listen to the children cry.

 

And this for a different competition – Theme, Fire

 

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