[Old and Unreadable] Max's Thought-Provoking Poetry

From the Ashes

Fire consumes all
It leaves a path of scorch in its wake
And when the sun falls
It burns of brightness and hate
A flaming, furious fire
The night's malevolence
The day's funeral pyre

For as the sun rises
We see the blackened ash
The tempest of flames made
It moved so fast
Its consumption so vast
Everything, shattered glass
Not a single shrub was saved

Blackened, ashen, why?
Why is a spark lit from intention?
Why is controlled burning a way of life?
Why do some spark this of the will
The will to conserve
The will the burn
When all it brings is an ashen ill?

Black we may see
But beneath the soil's surface
While the forest is seething
There is a purpose
Soil is made rich, purified and purged
A new day starts with a seed
The sprout of a new surge

One sprout, two sprouts
From the ashes of the flame is life
A richer, stronger life than ever before
There was pain, the forest felt
It was a nightmare, there was no help
But fire burns and destroys one
And gives birth to the better self