As fire kisses the wood,

there is no mercy,

but the wood does it consume,

hoarsely or with gentility,

the wood blackens and does

not question the fire;

Indeed it does not question

the fire, of its authority

or strength or audacity

or why it overcomes its still being,

nor does it resist,

but with a quietness

it inhales the conquest,

and accepts the pastures of burns

as its being is rusted black,

it only crackles in endurance,

tears within

with an humble obligation,

and a silent confidence

and so the pride of the fire

diminishes with each exhaustion

of oxygen and breathe,

until

until it finally vanishes,

but, the wood remains,

no more wood perhaps,

but as ash

or charcoal, ready

for another fire.  www.flixya.com

                              By Kakraba Afful