His screams cut through,
The summer air,
A walking flame,
A talking flare,
He marched across,
The sullen lot,
And as they watched,
The flames he fought,
His eyes shone bright,
As oils caught fire,
He had found,
His one desire,
None could quench,
The painful blaze,
And in his mind,
A misty haze,
Intestines boiled,
Blood soaked the ground,
Victims praised,
The light they’d found,
And in his final,
Death’s descent,
They screamed aloud,
The torch lament.

                                  Ktwilight
 
 

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