I love the term 'wildfire'
open for interpretation.
like fire has a desire,
or will for manipulation.

fire is a FORCE
not a wild beast
you can not coerce
it will only feast

and when the food depletes
its power and life too
until ignition repeats
causing need for fiery food

this is hard to grasp
as man desires,
no, requires
control for us to last

for something to be uncontrolled
leaves the possibility
of tales to be told
of human death and misery

its laughable to think
the lighting at out tips
takes time to think
of where in life it sits

we don't control forces
we work around them.
we control being like dogs and horses
for their eyes have minds behind them.

a force is not controlled
A beast only appeased
But mess with these things old
And soon you last breath, will be breathed.

"Life is like photography
We develop from the negatives"

Your honest it shines,
Your truthfulness it glows
Immensely bright, terrifyingly white
Emitting the pains you've known.

Such honest truth
Is hard to find
And when its found
It brings feelings most unkind

The mask it is proffered
The acting accepted more.
For cries of truth
Make battles into war.

Sad but true
Fakery is required,
Its not the real deal
but is greatly desired.

For misery is madness
And madness is contagious
Don't pass on your madness
Save others, from your mindset, most dangerous.

Going outside just to wander
Walking round the world about
The wind is blowing
In an apparent shout

The trees they sway
This way and that
Moving with the wind
Like some foreign dance

The movements are magic
And the noise is their song
The trees are alive
Of this I'm not wrong

Even when the leaves are gone
The trees still dance
And sing their song

A gentle hush is what they make
A moving sound
And breath it takes

The branches are moving
Every which way
Their location is one
But they enjoy the restraints

For they know
That where they are
Is where they should be
And their movement
Is of the most beautiful simplicity.

Brooding, thinking, lost in thought
Would things be better if I bit my tongue
It might have hurt then,but maybe less now
But at least the weight on my chest is no longer a tonne

Instead of my tongue
It was the bullet I bit
Piped up, spoke, fired my words
I was either firing blanks, or just didn't hit

But shooting is fun,
It's a popular hobby
I can blame the target
When my aim is just shoddy

But I've still got ammunition
And I'm gonna make it my mission

To be a better shot
I'll use metaphorical firearms
Show the world what I've got,
And what I can get
When the sights of my heart and mind
Are perfectly aligned

Cupid keep your bow and arrow
I've got guns,
Loves my ammo.