She was a fire.
Burning bright with life and beauty, blinding everyone with her dazzling colors
But the flick of her flame brought searing pain to everything she touched
She charred the ground and cried then blamed it for being so easy to burn.
I was the earth.
Solid and sturdy
I reached out my branches into her heart but they only withered away from the heat
Yet I was not perfect
In anger I tried to smother her with my dirt and grime until she no longer shined so bright
but it never dulled the pain
I surrounded myself with firefighters who desperately fought to keep down the flame
They tried to stop it from consuming me
But it was already too late.
She was a fire.
Engulfing everything in her flame until eventually she burned out
There was nothing else for her to take from me but she still hungered the same
The only thing left to fuel her was the ash and smoke of what remained.
I was the earth.
Black from her blaze that tore through me until I was nothing
I clung to her ashes hoping new life would grow and it did
I grew with a vengeance until I covered every wound with green.
She was a fire that scorched the earth
And even as I regrow,
I know she will only burn me again.
YOU ARE READING
Wilting Rose
PoetryMaybe this can break a heart Maybe it can show That maybe you aren't alone Or maybe nothing will happen Because maybe I'm not a hero But maybe I can still save a life Maybe I know the secrets to the world Or maybe I only know one thing: A whole bunc...
