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Corey Lietzow

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

9 poems·Since March 2019
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Wildfire

March 17, 2019

Set ablaze, red hot from the flames.

Thick ashes fill the air and block the lungs of those unlucky enough to find themselves trapped within.

Engulfed by the inferno, unleashing its rage on anything that lives.

The fires roaring, never ceasing their destruction; it's the embodiment hell on earth.

Lifeless, trees crash down, throwing embers across the already charred land.

It spreads evermore. Scorching all in its path.

Inescapable. You can be unknowingly within the searing mass.

To think it was only a spark that caused this apocalyptic scenario so many are captured in.

It grows and grows, feeding, devouring.

Run, all you can do is run.

But eventually it will reach you.

 

The lies always come back to you.

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