Red, orange, yellow, white,
Green and blue and purple too,
A thousand supernova hues.
Flames will light, born from the pyre,
Or perhaps from the meeting of flint and stone.
One small spark becomes wildfire.
Destroying homes.
Charring bones.
Fire needs fuel to stay alive,
And when it’s gone,
You can't revive,
That unique orange, every glorious dawn.
Warm as a mother, deadly as a viper
A fire burns inside the hearth.
In the distance, a lonely ******,
Will extinguish you, and ignite the dark.