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Fire Poem MAG
I stare into the fire,
The white-hot flames searing my skin
Thick, black, tangible smoke curls around my nose
Crawling up my throat
Squeezing the air out
Like a python and its prey
Desperately I stumble forward
Ducking as smoldering rafters collapse
Inches away from my ash-stained shoes
My lungs wheeze,
Trying to suck the last bit of oxygen
Out of the smoke-heavy air
Hopelessly, my foot catches
On a charred chunk of petrified wood
I curl up on the ground
Holding my sides in the fetal position
Coughing a dry, raspy cough
My body refuses to work
As I watch the wicked flames draw nearer
To my scorched clothes
And as I give up my last breath,
I see a light.
Not evil fire light,
But a warm, soft glow.
Like that of the sun.
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