It started as nothing.
Just something waiting to be awakened.
And it did.
That was when it grew
To just a small spark.
It was small
But it was enough.
Fuel was added.
The spark grew, as well,
Into a small flame.
It was small
But it was enough.
The fuel came faster.
The flame grew to be a fire.
A very beautiful fire.
It lit up much space.
It was more than enough.
The fuel was greedy.
It kept coming.
The fire grew.
And grew.
And grew.
Until it was no longer enough.
It was no longer more than enough.
It was too much.
Too excessive.
To destructive.
It destroyed.
It ruined.
It burned.
It hurt.
It was no longer nothing.
It was something much worse.
YOU ARE READING
Random Poems
PoetryI always think of the most random poems when I'm bored. Some of them are actually good, so it would be a waste if I didn't write them down. I also think of them when I'm upset.
