molten tears

at first,
a spark,
little stars,
eating up oxygen,
and molding a direction,
making way and using what is there,
utilizing what can be used,
growing,
as a kind of devouring,
of an often dangerous nature,
takes fast and furious next steps,
evolving,
and becoming the teeth that
warriors must fight against,
upon land once so lush,
an ecology which is nearly decimated,
will embark on a green rebuilding year of less thorns
once enough time has passed,
but those who kept the battleground,
after pulling survivors from the tumult aftermath
yet coming together in the furious,
grafted speedy departure,
we mourn and hurt inside the
searing heal,
as our losses and remembrance
are followed by charred scars and irreplaceable memories,
bits soothed by thanks to those who
provide help so that life may live,
again
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About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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