Fire


Throng of waves pursue the ring,
Liking the edges with fury and fiend

Conquer and be named victor of the heat,
Or give in to the blazing, white-hot endless waves

Where is the start, here does it finish,
For a circle has no beginnings or ends

All self pride, must bow down to the king of it all,
The powerful, fierce flames and call

No creature could betray, or penetrate it secrets,
For this scorching, deadly light has no weakness

So she would fear it? No, for we use it every day
But respect it, yes, for we owe our lives to this heat, which always gets its way

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This Poems Story

I fear fire, but I find it’s beuty something that I can’t look away. To me, fire is more then heat... it is beuty, burnin away fear. I tried to show that in this story.