I have tried to avoid it

The burning bridge at which I stand

Which you continued to ignite

Without a thought or plan

What you would do when the fire

Started spreading through the reeds

How the flames might consume you

As your callous, careless deeds

Have consumed my thoughts for ages

At your words, ill, pale with spite

How your arrogance and ignorance

Have dismissed my life outright.

But how the stones cry out!

How the earth itself is weeping

While you pretend there is no fire

Near the bed where you are sleeping.

A fire which I grow weary

Of containing at the bridge

Which now I’ll let grow wild

Consuming bank and field and ridge.

A cleansing, healing fire

That will leave your house in dust

Expose your treasures to the rain

Leave your tools to rot and rust.

And when the bridge is cinders

When you can’t hide beneath your hatch

Think of how your pride destroyed you.

It wasn’t I who lit the match.