Marc Aupiais Poetry
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Fire turns apon itself
It cannot burn what's already burnt
Slowly, it is snuffled,
Sand stands in it's way,
Sand it cannot burn,
But though attacked, sand only improves,
And uniequely, glass, becomes.
The fire pleads with the trees
And begs for a place to rest,
But none give it rest,
All fear the rumours spread,
Though some ignore them still
The fre sees an empty field,
Another place to burn,
But in it's wake, it cannot repeat,
No one wants destruction back.
Fire drowns and flickers out,
For that is destruction's fate.
It rains after the fire,
Water cleanses the land,
goodness revives it's state
Water here is good,
it doesn't destroy it's Keeper
And this sustains them always indestructable
In every state
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Marc Aupiais!
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