ON FIRE

Fire is both a passion and a penance.
The mother of rites,a master of riots;
It saves from sins but sorely disquiets,
Guarding and gutting in its ambiance.

Bonfire beams in;wild fire breaks out,
Burning victims with percentage points,
Whose aftermath,mauls memory's joints.
Bonfire in reverse,shows its sordid spout.

With engulfing hatred,does fire loom large,

Spitting flames at rivals and foes,to barge;
From burning camphor and candles of faith,
Fire turns to pyre,to fabricate many a wraith.

Fire is a devastating,ash blowing vampire,
Watching ruin games,as an unseen umpire.
                                            P.Chandrasekaran.