Flames of Malice

December 17, 2019

Red, screaming flames

Blaze my once-mild home into nothingness.

The trees, as tall as buildings,

The quiet, blameless green grass flowing its spikes across the dirt

Crisping to pieces

With heavy, silver smoke leaping above

As a symbol of their death.

The scene,

Is reflected in my violent, blue, teardrop eyes

The eyes that were once innocent,

The eyes that once had potential.

But no.

My world's sky was darkened, gray clouds thicker than my layer of immoral thought

I look down at myself.

I am in the midst of the fire.

I am a dead log, feeding the flames.

Above all, I am the being that silenced the birds, starting the game of destruction.

Leaves of resentment fall off of the crackling trees above, fueling the sweltering slaughter of a

simple world.

Why can't I stop it?

The pain, brutality, immorality

Gaze down above me

With a tenacious motif to prevent the waves of goodness

From washing upon me, killing the flames of malice they direct.

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