Fire: A Sestina, by The Irish Child Subscribe to rss feed for The Irish Child

The world is like a ball of fire
And we’re playing in its foggy smoke
Of Nuclear Bombs and grenades
Destroying what the world once owned
Clearing the world of forests and trees
With no oxygen, we fall to our knees

The children will sit on our knees
At night as we surround the camp fire
Encircled by enormous trees
You can hardly see past the smoke
Embers burn what you once owned
Explosions from the grenades

The boys pretend they have grenades
They throw while others fall to their knees
They take them captive and tell them they are owned
By men who love to use fire
To light their cigarettes to smoke
Behind the life worn and bent tree

They hide behind the trees
Getting ready to throw the grenade
When suddenly they smell smoke
And they drop to their knees
The smoke came from the fire
Burning what they once owned

Destroying what the world once owned
A lack of oxygen, a lack of trees
Ashes remain from the fire
And the explosion from the grenade
Boys in combat boots fall onto their knees
And die from inhaling the smoke

Teary eyes in the smoke
Ponder upon what life they once owned
Fallen to the knees
Of merciless men, hidden under trees
Killed by the grenade
That caused the forest fire

Deadly fire, cigarettes and smoke
He died from the grenade he once owned
They lean upon the trees, still on their knees
Posted: 2006-03-04 16:20:52 UTC

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2006-03-21 19:21:50Faith
This was a very interesting poem to read! I like the strong imagery and the form you wrote it in, well done!