For every person, there can be a desire
It is to touch and hold that beautiful fire.
Rageful though it can be, it can be tamed,
Even then, for destruction, it might be blamed.
It is really our fault for the destruction it caused,
And the huge fires can not (shortly) be paused.
Some people think there are deities of fire,
And some people use it to burn dead people's pires.
When fire runs wild, it can never be good,
I would run away like sensible people would. (Lol!)
Sometimes I think fire is Satan's bite,
But other times it can bring comforting light.
How can one thing have such opposite sides?
It is beautiful but it is responsible for many that died!
Sorry it is kinda dark!!!!!!!
Categories:
pires, anger, dark, death, deep,
Form: Sonnet
Rows Of Houses
Rows of houses,
line of sight,
Helmet rooves
about knee height,
Squinting windows,
barrel of gun,
War in the garden
had begun.
Traipsing boots
in blooming red,
Spike the spear,
a rose lay dead,
Gullies, trenches,
rows of fence,
Dared the battle
to commence.
Rambling thorn
and injured men,
Muddied faces
in a badgers den,
Shell shocked sycamore
fluttered dim,
Love, the enemy
withered grim.
Twigs and limbs
were neatly pruned
Crazy paved,
the earth doomed,
Smoky pires,
incendiary bombs,
My love and spring
lay in tombs.
Children digging,
banners waving,
Mums and dads
under crazy paving,
Rows of houses,
gone askew
Yet in the garden
a poppy grew.
© RJVHorton2016
Categories:
pires, war,
Form: Rhyme