Sadness For The Burning Towns (Arson Is Not A Joke) Poem by Maxwell B Anderson

Great big deaf forests; treated pine furniture.
Saw mills pulp mills
alleviate the overgrowth.
But something else.
Something else Rips through trees and
cuts into the land.
But it Chops further than just leaves and branches.
Tears through life and emotions
and smoldering ashes of devastation
are whats left.
All thats left behind.
After a bushfire.
Fire.
Relentless.Unforgiving. And the Centre of Hades.

Give them the chance to mourn.
Let their souls rest.
dont take them with you!
Dont let their souls burn,
like you extinguished their bodies!
Poor hearts, of friends
and loved ones broken too..
Left behind
after fire...