A Musing Arsonist

There he stood Rooted by love To the land. There he swayed A welcomed guest Of Neptunus Rex. There he soared Swelled by pride Into the blues. There he fell Beneath waves Of emotions. There he flowed Down river Into depression. There he crawled Into her arms Sought compassion. There he felt The fire desire Roast raunchy. There he burned At both ends A wax museum. There he went Down the drain Of incarceration. There he went There he stayed Until his final day. There he goes Where, who knows? Here, he shines. There he’s kept Treasured twice By his absence. There he left An empty bottle I drink from daily. There he mused The arsonist Who fired my clay.