Serpents eyes sear like fire,
Through the grass,
Like a bushfire.
The Embers glow like gems in the sunlight,
And wait for the slightest wind to spark,
A dangerous temper.
The water comes and acts not as it should.
The Ethanol Rain,
Simply adds fire to the coals.
The dry grass burns,
And the air seethes with fire.
It destroys all,
And destroys itself last.
It leaves a hollow empty tree,
An enigma of rebirth,
And the seed drops.
The seed opens.
The seed grows.
Waiting to create a new passion,
With the ethanol rain and it's companion spark.
'Rage is like a fire. It may warm and comfort you, but if left unattended, it will burn out of control and leave a desolate black wasteland.'
S, Logan-10/9/08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem