"FLAME" by Emma Briseño

Upon us was what they call

“the perfect storm”.

Fated winds persisted

- quickly and unforgivingly

Over the dried out foundation

upon which we stood.

A foundation dried out

by the heat

of our frustrations.

- by lack of nurture,

for which we could no longer provide.

And then,

the last remaining spark

had escaped you

using the strengths of those hateful winds,

and weakness

of the dried up ground

to ignite itself

into another.

Instantaneously,

we combusted. 

Leaving behind bits a pieces

of what once was, 

all around us.