Burn Poem by crazy sweep

An army of cries make home in my throat
i open my mouth to let out a scream to flow like a tsunami
but there is not a sound.

as the tents burn
the silence flows through the air
but the village is too far from water
so we helplessly stare
the old lady screams 'what have you done? '
but it wasnt the childs fault
he was having too much fun
but now he burns
burns with our home
burns with the guilt
that maybe he was meant to die alone.

so as we burn
we wait with our mouths open
we wait for the tsunami to hit
and we wait for this time to be over

this is not another love poem
this is not a story of how my heart has been broken into a million pieces
by a girl who doesnt even know
yet i lay hypnotised in the thought that I sometimes
am in her dreams
that sometimes
in her dreams we dance aloud
that sometimes we sing aloud
that sometimes we be aloud
the sometimes
that sometimes the flame will burn aloud.