Lit Mag


Fiery tentacles 
Stretching their way up and around
Blackened and collapsing trees
Bright red, orange, and yellow
Ashy smoke rising 
far above 
 the line of the treetops across the vast forest
Golden plumes of raging fire
This was our home
Eaten up and engulfed
And we stand here
I feel almost ethereal existence
 watching the horrific scene
 As if I’m floating above it
Nothing I do,
 no action I can take,
 no words I can speak
will be of use
Forever mute in our torment
People are on their knees all around me
Hands clasped
In tears
In shambles like our home
We kneel together and beg, for any source of comfort 
In this hellscape

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