Wildfire Poem by Franz Of Lion

Bellowing of wanton, calescent winds approaching nigh;
Nudging the cerise trunks of the timberland,
Shriveling the leaves into ruination,
And scorching the amenable trees.
Cinders linger underneath the ravaged land;
Succumbing to its baneful domination.

Hasty gale jeering from above.
Scaturient guilt rummaged
Through the ashen field;
Obliterated once more.
A veneer of halcyon stillness
Intramurally delving into
The deepest depths of madness.

Leaving behind the wail of oblivion
That reverberated across the seaway,
And into the unsuspecting galleon;
Heeding the call from miles away.
Billowing waves trajected the salvager,
Like a purblind man
Treading carefully upstairs
with a decrepit baluster
To support the handrails,
Through the linear zephyr tinging with dirt.
Approaching vessel lurched forward,
Allured by the mirth in the murky corner,
Colliding with the wasteland
That reeked of horror.
Stranded along with the tilted ship
And the facetious wilderness;
Bearing its bitterness.

Inhaling the ailing dust,
An effete vestige
Of the once haughty musk.
The zest of the spirit
Meandered through the despondent badlands;
Sowing its blitheness
Across the solitariness.
Trusting the barren soil
To burgeon into a verdure of sustenance
That not even the tremulous winds
Could falter the resonance
In its fathomless roots of fortitude.

The flicker of the buried chartreuse seeds
Bred a buoyant sprout upon the vastitude
Of the now invigorated land;
Revelling the convalescence, and
Conforming to the imminent efflorescence filled with effervescence.
Fervent ground fluttering in exhilaration;
Awaiting the day when it spreads its flowers
On its body like a cluster of perennial decoration
Brimming with genuine, complacent imperfection.

Progressively flourishing the dearth of buds,
Restively stalking the sun to rise.
Ardent to start anew;
All thanks to you.