The Fire

It's a poem

Do you see the beauty in fire that burns the bodies of those so tragically lost.

They scream as flames lick at their faces,

The reflection of the colours dancing on their glazed lifeless eyes.

The flames change colours as it consumes them,

The smells that arise from the pile is deliciously fresh,

They roast as I await my turn and soon so shall you.

To be burned in the ever stirring light of the fire that fills our day.