You know
and I also know
it is not fair
to allow brave breaths to die
and fall silently on the ground,
to allow insane thoughts
to flame the air  

But when the little boy
was lighting the fire
in between your and my house
you didn’t stop him
neither did I  

So we have to go through the pain
of seeing our beautiful houses
made out of soft colourful love
surrendered before the fire  

Now we have no options
but to stand with burnt ashes of our heart
in our hands
and nothing remains
that can be termed as desire

Though our minds knows
nothing can heal the pain
our heart felt,
one thing is needed
and only one thing is required
a more volcanic fire  

A war  

But where is the boy who lit the fire?