There is a fire in the August sky
The earth it rumbles like my trembling chest
Then from a distance let out like a sigh

I turn my gaze towards the planes in the West
Towards the thickly blackened sun.
There’s a fire burning in this sky
And I should not even attempt to run.

Children cry and people flee in vain
Yet I stand transfixed by all of it
Completely frozen in this timeless event.
The ash it begins to fall like rain

This is my home.
My home with its little rocks
Its broken doors, its fishing hooks.
This is my home that I used to hate
But all that changes in a twist of fate.

I no longer want to leave
I won’t mind the dirt
I won’t complain about barely making ends meet.
I’ll learn to forget my mother’s look of hurt.

I silently beg and plead
I’ll be a grateful child
This right here, is all I need
Yet god just sat in the sky and smiled
My pleas, he does not meet.

My friends and family run about and scream
I plead at the now empty sky
“Don’t you see?” I inwardly cry
I look back down to see red in little streams

The little stones have never looked so pretty
The children never looked so small.
I no longer hate this town: so tiny and dirty and gritty.
I pray to heaven, I really do
Yet the ash continues to fall

The fire it takes the homes
It takes the memories, it takes our lives
It takes every person, down to their bones,
Every soul who will ever live…dies.

Now there are no children left to cry
The stones have all but melted away
And I am now the very ash that stays.
Everything about this place is gone.
Everything about this deed was wrong.

The fire, it still remains
Screaming out its violent cry
Against this bloody August sky.