He was a dillo. A simple dillo
Chillin in the forest. Young dillo. A dillo, so cunning.
Running. Suddenly.
Trees aflame."O man"
That's what the dillo says.
"Hot dam."
The dillo says
as he sees the beavers.
Burning and running in circles,
burning up like a fever.
"Get in the water ******!","******!"
"Get in that water ******!"
"Nah, we okay, my dam ain't, but I cannot tell really.OH fate, My face is melting off, what is life for oneself, in this health let this ****** die now?"
Dillo so sad, but still says with no doubt "Love of life is worth the pain so here's how I'll help"
Running quick, grabbing the ****** with both hands, sending him to the water with him, flames spew about but get cooled down, wash, drowned.
The ****** still lay dead, a blow to the head, a stone from when he was thrown in, lodged jagged.
The dillo cry more, "oh how can my spirit soar, when my world gets burned and chopped to the floor, and everyone I love, I am killing unintentionally, I am so torn, should I die, let go of my will like the ******, oh."
Should I lay to waste and burn, or continue to find my way out this jungle?
Amplified by a passion of life the dillo runs faster to find what is right, which he might... For fighting to live is how he lives right.