The Flames

something i found while cleaning out my english stuff

From the very start, I saw flames in his heart

But little did I know that flames spread and they grow

When he first stepped inside, I wanted to hide.

 

He cared not that he haunted us, it was money he wanted from us

So his flames spread to me, I hated him sincerely

It's almost as if I can still see it clearly.

 

As if there were flames in my brain,

It drove me insane

Soon everyone else would, too, feel my pain.

 

The day I grew tired of it, how it made me feel sickly

And in my anger, my flames spread quickly

The fire creeping up the stairs, and there was ash in the air

The things that the dead ones left are no longer there.

 

Now this event has passed, for not everything lasts

But he still came back with the flames from the past

They sit deep in his heart, or what little heart he had

I hate him sincerely; he drove us all mad.