When we dance with a fine partner, fire,
The most lovely of events transpire.
Flames lick the sky,
a few wonder why,
But all hearts are freed of desire.
You may forget you exist
When the urge to burn - you cease to resist.
Such dance can only enthrall,
screaming Fire, more fire for all!
To whichever God you are thrall
Pray we don't run out of Pekasol!
May 31, 2011
May 31, 2011 at 6:49 AM UTC
When we dance with a fine partner, fire,
The most lovely of events transpire.
Flames lick the sky,
a few wonder why,
But all hearts are freed of desire.
You may forget you exist
When the urge to burn - you cease to resist.
Such dance can only enthrall,
screaming Fire, more fire for all!
To whichever God you are thrall
Pray we don't run out of Pekasol!