15 sept 1
Moss grew along
The twisted banches in a moist valley
Diving deep in a lake of longing
I tried to scoop a few oysters
But the pearls couldn’t hold the heat
My palms were burned
In the fire of fury
That the lake emitted in the forest
Burning trees, crying birds
Red sky
Smoky breeze
All the rocks tried in vain
There wasn’t a single train
I could have boarded to go away
The rails are, like curved branches,
mangled in the volcanic eruption
Why did you
Expect, anything to survive
After the fire
The ire
Your mire
A desire
Burried in the grave
Of responsibilities towards the
Forest which is on fire
Just now