The day I woke up, the sky was gray.
Clouds of black. A sprinkle of rain.
Thunder claps, yet it was midday.
Flowing orange fire like a tiger's mane.

Today, I woke up to a sky of gray.
Walked out to a sight quite often seen.
Fires burned bright, just to decay.
Sat still and watched, but not so keen.

Each day I wake up, the sky will be gray.
Water pours down, pools at my feet.
Flames clash with the sky-fallen bay.
Cool sensations burned up by the heat.