It starts small— Barely a thought, Like a spark, Sufficient to ignite My body, A forest. It spreads Like wildfire; Soon, paradise Turns to hell. No end in sight. Fret not— This too shall pass, Be it through rain To drown the flames, Or new growth In scorched ground.
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Barely a thought,
Like a spark,
Sufficient to ignite
My body,
A forest.
It spreads
Like wildfire;
Soon, paradise
Turns to hell.
No end in sight.
Fret not—
This too shall pass,
Be it through rain
To drown the flames,
Or new growth
In scorched ground.