First, I took amber and fire
And I had his eyes.
Then I took sunset and dawn
And I had his coat.
I added charcoal and ink
And I had his spots…
But then the charcoal started darkening,
Forming shapes that swirled into the sky
As trees crumbled.
Crumbled down, down,
Down to ash.
Ash from fire – reflected in his eyes,
Dancing flames within pupils, dilated with fear,
As he runs through burning, twisting forms
That once formed his home –
Now alight. As bright as the sun.
When sunset falls, matching his coat,
The cool night does not greet him.
It rages on – angry and furious.
And he flees because
He is afraid.