Pyromaniac

It flickers in the night in shades of red
She watches it, mesmerized by the sound.
It crackles like snapping twigs. She is bound
To the rawness of it as it is fed.

It speaks to her even as prayers are said,
Rejecting this life. But still she has found
–the beauty of it. Its colours so loud
They light her irises and fill her head.

Her tongue wets her lips and tastes the dark clouds.
Did you ever wonder what it tastes like?
Vivid, veloptuous chaos. And she smiles.

She doesn’t run like them. Some stay and fight.
She thrives in the lick of the heat, so proud
And pure it has seduced her with its wiles.