The fire burning
The smoke in the sky
The white smoke
It never cries
The writing in the smoke
The images of the past
It comes running
They think they will return
They try to break
The walls of smoke
They cough and shout
Nobody hears the sound
The fire burning
The cackling cry of twigs
The smoke from the dry grasses
The fallen leaves images of the past
The glory once was
Now it has to go
It has stayed its welcome
The world has changed
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