Blooming Destruction
Whenever I smell the sweet scent of smoke,
see the lazy grass sway left and right,
I grow�
delirious with that quiet power
I once held in my hand.
In my hand,
it BLOOMED.
But this isn�t my story�.
this story is how
in a deceptive
moment,
that angry, furious wind stirred,
and
with that frightening intensity,
that flame
is no more quiet,
no longer empowering,
it
DESTROYED.
