The falling rain pitter pats quietly,
so quietly.
It is a whispering in my ear,
soft words,
loving words.
Singing me to my slumber,
it promises me endless pleasantries.
I wish the rain was you.

I am told don't be loud, don't ever be angry, don't be outspoken.
I am told be soft, be calm, be quiet.
But I am a wildfire, I burn, I ravage.
I cannot, no, I will not be just a contained, flickering flame.
I refuse to be smothered, I refuse to be put out.
Though I may incinerate, might leave things scorched and blackened, I am also light, I am incandescent, I am effervescent.
And so I will set things aflame, watch me ignite.
This is who I am.
I am a wildfire.
And I shall burn.