Marc Aupiais Poetry
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Fire turns upon itself
It cannot burn what's already burnt
Slowly, it is snuffled,

Sand stands in its way,
Sand it cannot burn,
But though attacked, sand only improves,
And uniequely, glass, becomes.

The fire pleads with the trees
And begs for a place to rest,
But none give it rest,
All fear the rumours spread,

Though some ignore them still

The fire sees an empty field,
Another place to burn,
But in its wake, it cannot repeat,
No one wants destruction back.
Fire drowns and flickers out,
For that is destruction's fate.
It rains after the fire,
Water cleanses the land,
goodness revives it's state

Water here is good,
it doesn't destroy it's Keeper
And this sustains them always indestructible
In every state

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