Death by fire

it is not a happy thing

I thought I would die for sure

I watched the skin melt off my little sister's face

it wasn't anything anything I ever thought I would have

to see

that I would go through


They just threw the torch right through our front window

Right into our small Christmas tree

as if they knew

for it was Christmas Eve

and the tree was a'lit, a'fire

the small fir was a'blaze

the flames choked me

the heat engulfed me.

Only I escaped.


Death by fire

that is what I suffered

and what I remember

to this day.

Crawling through the smoke filled house

and out the back window.

Watching the house as the fire spread

I could not.

I would not.

I fled.


I would not do it,

not for their pleasure

for their hate

for their inhumane satisfaction

my family died.


Death by fire.

Is it not a happy thing?

Is it not a nice thing?

Fire.

While the flames creep up your clothes.

Death, by fire.