Wildfire

Well I heard from some good sources,
That things aren’t going so well.
I’m hearing mighty war cries,
I’m feeling terror in my bones.

Statues are a’ crumblin,
Trembling like these hands.
It’s deadly all around us,
Soon will all be bloodstains.

Ticking tocks are mocking,
In their sage and silent ways.
Our frenzied footsteps drown it out,
Those whispering pleas to be saved.

I heard that this is the way things are,
That their most likely never changing.
The sound goes to my ears, I understand,
Yet hope doesn’t quite leave me.

I’m burning now, like everything,
The inferno washes over me.
In smokescreen pain it all makes sense,
then darkness finally takes me.