There started a fire once,
In a land far far away.
Smoke made it hard to distinguish between charcoal and a pair of lungs,
One seems to get burnt, if with fire he desires to play.
The fire it engulfed the land;
Far and wide not a trace of old was left,
Towers that once split the skies, now failed to even stand,
The babes cried no more, maybe they needed not anymore their mother’s breast.
The bodies, they lay burnt on the ground,
Burnt to ashes, much of them had simply flown away.
A single breathing breath was not be found,
The fire didn’t need to learn how to slay.
The clouds came rushing but were still quiet late,
They began to weep, their tears put out all the flames,
Everything now burnt, streamed away, the love and all the hate,
The Joy and the memories, the grief and even the names, they had all simply failed to remain.
All was lost.
Save for the mind; a strange scent,
Fire burnt at a great cost,
Had caused people to leave behind memories as further ahead they went.
The ground was empty now, fertile with the past,
The birds frequented now with grains from afar,
The land was soft now, a pity from the clouds at last,
Slowly the plants equally numbered the stars.
The land was alive once more,
The babe for it’s mother’s breast cried once more,
Animals of different kind, nowhere else one would find,
A place blessed for the body and a sanctuary for the mind.
A strange man now back to the land had travelled.
He smiled at the hippos in the ponds, birds in the trees and the rivalling lions and the tigers.
A secret he buried in his chest, he now wished to unravel;
Therefore he asked the forest,
“Aren’t you glad I lit the fire?”
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