The wood is smoking, the sparks ignite,
A little light within the night.
It starts to flicker, whispering news.
There to serve, warm and amuse.
And as it rises, in its elegant ways,
It dances its dance as it proudly sways.
Up it jumps and waves about,
begging to never be stamped or blown out.
Knowing it has only a short life span.
It heats up a bold and mischievous plan.
It gets excited and begins to grow,
It preforms it's best in it's short lived show.
It became quite a monster and blackened the earth.
And left scars on nature not long after birth,
It wanted to be heard, it wished to be strong,
It wanted to live longer than what it thought long.
It scared off its guests, and it's dance turned rude.
It spat and it spread, the time ticked with it's mood.
The smoke is it's soul, continuously leaving,
The air is it's life that keeps it breathing.
Too much of a good thing can quickly turn bad.
The winds blows hard on this fire, so ambitious, so sad.
It was enjoying its life till all of a sudden it came,
Gone with the wind, only to return back just the same.