I start to feel the fire of tears.
It quickly spreads through me.
I'm just the dried grass.
The fire starter.
This arson fire overwhelms me in its sharp grasp.
I need to get away.
I need the water to contain this fire.
What is the water?
I need it.
Soon it will be too big to contain.
Where is the defense to this?
It is the arson.
My whole body's parched it needs water.
Who, what is my water?
Why is it not coming?
I feel like I'm falling covered in flames.
I'm reaching out one hand holding onto the metallic black rock ledge of my hope.
I start to feel the pull of the fire.
I start to fall. My arm is still extended.
Why won't anyone help my burning soul?
