13 August 2012

Flames lick up the rugs, Burning them to a crisp, Eating away at furniture, Smokes emerge in whisps.

Red fire still burning, After water is thrown, But even after numerous buckets, If anything it's grown.

Mutilating belongings, Singing a teddy bear, A girl huddled outside, Bundled on a chair.

Nothing left in the world, But a small patch of land, Where the house in glory Used to firmly stand.

Fire burnt out, Damage done, Game over, Fire won.

justAwriterThe Fire • Opuss № I