A Twisted Dance

The Thames laps the shore
Unknowing, unseeing
Numb and deaf and unrelenting
While those who do not drown below
In its rapidly swift current
Are burned to a crisp above

It flickers brightly
Bringing fear to their eyes
Licking, scorching, blistering skin
While the smoking tendrils smother
With its misleading rainbow of colors
Blue, gold, and red

It rises constantly higher
Writhing and twirling
Like a twisted dance
The wind blowing unceasingly
People screaming in one desperate plea
But it’s far too late to douse the chaos

Roaring, hissing, spitting
Easily destroying everything
That threatens to extinguish it
As if it were a simple matchstick
Mockingly incinerating those who know no better

Running is not fast enough
So people pray for mercy
But the sky is not crying
And the wind is still howling
The Thames is boiling
This fire will not obey

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