Scarlet red sky,
with smoke flying high.
Eyes start stinging,
whilst ears start ringing.

A stench in the nose,
as the fire arose.
People running on the streets,
some with no shoes on their feets.

Parent less children crying,
whilst loved ones are dying.
People on fire,
all hope dire.

The fire eating all alive,
taking all hope to survive.
No mercy to be found,
as all is burnt to ground.

Now only ashes remain,
leaving nothing the same.
The red fades away,
as it starts a new day.

Bringing silence once again,
and ending all their pain.
All burnt to the crisp,
not one can say a whisp.

So next time think twice,
and take my advice:
Don't call me a little witch;
it can turn me into a real b*tch.

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