I am not a liar.
I articulate
The rough truths
They all deny.
So believe me as I faithfully declare;
I am an arsonist.

Ecstatic moments burn
Just as much
As violent ones.
Births and Deaths
Both leave flames
Behind.
But of different colours, and different kind.

I know all fires.
Every colour I have tasted,
Every pain and joy I have wasted.
Now I am proof of fire.
In fact, I am made of fire.
Born of it, raised of it.
And one day, dead by it.

Just like everyone else.