Flowers of Fire
Amidst the flowers by heaven’s brim,
A black, demure devil cleaves the sky,
So stealthily playing hide and seek,
Behind the clouds like dolphins swim.
And the flowers start touching the land,
Red and orange - so beautiful they are;
Oh! the sound… is it a cry of joy,
Or agony from burning flesh afar?
I stand stunned before the glorified show,
Our poor little town feeling its touch,
Where fires of love and hate entwine,
Within its embrace, hapless souls clutch.
No… these flowers smell of dirty firearms;
A kiss of death flows lip to lip.
Before I say goodbye to my land,
Let egos rest… I choose to sacrifice.
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