Burn it All ( A Blackened Symphony)

Little paper swans
Fly around in the wind
The beautiful white fantasy
That you can never be in

Did I just kill the poem
Before I let it start?
Yes poems have lives you know
And little beating hearts

Let's get back to the poem
You got me carried away
Where were we? oh, yes, paper swans
Riding wind on an autumns day

The grass is turning yellow
The leaves a vicious red
Can you visualize it reader?
Ready for the poem to be dead?

That's not leaves your seeing
It's a fire burning bright
Ashes to ashes reader
Take away forest's life

Another burning forest?
Jesse, how cliche
Why are you so pessimistic?
The poem doesn't have to die that way

The paper swans, Dear Reader
A plume of dove white smoke
Now it's getting darker
Can you feel you're lungs choke?

Panting down for a sip of air
How appropriate would that be?
Trying to find a hopeful sound
In this blackened symphony

As for the trees, Dear Reader
They all burned to the ground
They left a trail of ashes
They left a screaming sound

Can you smell the burning embers?
Hear the swans scream as they fall?
Can you taste the sulfur in the air?
Dear Reader, burn it all