(Image from en.wikipedia)

(Image from en.wikipedia)

By PoeticMeditations

From a tiny spark, it consumes and grows,
Turns mighty forests into hellish infernos,
Races about with foot so fleet,
Destroys all in its embrace of heat,
Like passion’s flame that burns so bright,
Quickly dies the pure, white light,
Yet, at its touch, can heal and purify.
From the cold, gray ash, new life shall spring,
And once again, the lark will sing.


About poeticmeditations

A 19th-century romantic poet living in the 21st-century. The Romantic poets, nib pens, candlelight, waistcoats, and pocket watches are a few of my favorite things.
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