The fire

 

The fire that ate peace,

It chucked out many rarities:

an old tree with a new nest;

a handwritten manuscript

without another copy;

the sole copy of an ancient book;

the wood that was charred

without manifesting

what was hidden inside,--

the beautiful statue;

the heart that got singed

and the canvas burnt;

the smile slaughtered

on innocent lips

that would have blossomed

a nobler, kinder place.

 

The fire going into the eyes,

blinding and burning the dreams,

The fire parching the flesh

and singing the soul,

The fire in our minds

smoldering forever

to burn the paradise

that was offered to us

by the lovely, smiling,

benevolent mother nature.