~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

Blazing streams of fire rose to the sky,

I could only sit back and wonder why.

A time for change is certainly calling,

But on and on time only passes by.

She lays and waits, tired of falling,

Of all her friends and their constant mauling.

The girl is exhausted, sprawled on her face,

From all of the weight he is always hauling.

A flaming oval is winning a race,

Plunging and diving with ever so grace.

The smoldering sphere at the peak of dust,

She should soon disappear without a trace.

The time has come, she knows it is a must,

"My life is over," she says in a gust.

"No it is not," I respond ever so soft.

"You are beautiful like a dove that's aloft."

She only shakes her head and gives a scoff.

One days she will know the truth, but not now.

And just like the sun, she will rise again.

And just like the sun, I will rise again.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~