Seeds of fire, in a forest that's alpine,
Dried up wood- most of them pine.
By Nature inflammable, waiting for a spark,
The only respite, when its night and dark.
The summer season, adds fuel to the fire,
Pining for the light, I grow higher and higher,
Nurtured by the sun, I've become tall and stout,
Primed for combustion, I've lost this bout.
A discarded cigarette, an electric jolt,
A chance encounter, a lightening bolt,
With thunder and Noise, sounds my death knell,
From the tranquil forest, I move to Purgatory hell.
You ask why I get charred daily, whether its Nature, Nurture or Noise?
I like to begin each day anew, in this matter I exercise Choice.
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