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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

I hope to actually do things again! This is something I typed up on a bit of inspiration.

I gazed in disbelief

at the burning of the panes,

all my material possessions,

consumed in burning flames.


What had been a simple spark,

could turn into a blaze,

it was a concept before

that could not even faze.


And yet here I was,

as all in sight turned to dust;

none of my tears could

stop the combust.


No longer could I live here,

I felt it would be cursed.

The remnant of this,

my reckless outburst.


With pain

I turned around my head,

so I could escape

from where fate had led.

Submitted: December 29, 2018

© Copyright 2022 RedCat. All rights reserved.

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