The twisted pillar of flame,
Burnt omnipotently in the sky.
Consuming the very air we breath.
Consuming the very earth we live upon.
Turning the sky to a blazing orange,
a shade of rose, the color of magnificence.
The people burned like dead leaves,
unwilling to turn from the exquisite dawn.
The earth a ball of ash, the air nothing but smoke,
The flame raged on and on.
Rage is human, while flame is free.
The fire acted as it should, not out of malice.
A world scoured and clean,
A place of perceived desolation.
Emptiness is human, while nature is wise.
Empty space is an invitation to be filled.
When the blaze had burned its course,
a new flame began to flicker.
Not hot, but burning
Not frightening, but awe inspiring.
Not consuming, but creating.
Not fire, but passion.
So was born a new world.
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