A fire, raging inside the weathered skin of the world
People begging to come through,
Crawling and digging their way to the surface.
Pleading for a voice, yet being picked through and left behind,
For the next one is allowed to shine.

The loveliest concoction of gunpowder and flame,
Just below the surface of a temperate land.
Perplexing and contradicting tornadoes savage the mind,
Leave only emeralds and a shaky smile.
However life must push through all the while.

She is the most beautiful bomb.'
Unpredictible and clever,
Though she is haunted by many a thought,
She stands tall and fiercely.