Voices in the Smoke

                                                       Oh man! i love a dancing fire
                                                                Although I often speculate:
                                                                   how many voices are softly
                                                                      taken away to meet their fate,
                                                                                they swiftly become aloft,
                                                                                 smoke lost inside the sky
                                                                                 it increases thoughtfully;
                                                                             in its own sweet time. Oh,
                                                                       how many voices could be
                                                                     silenced or removed?
                                                                    unheard, unsighted
                                                                     notions disapproved.
                                                                           climb the heights
                                                                               oh dear voices,
                                                                                    being robbed of,
                                                                                        lifes choices
                                                                                            do you feel
                                                                                          distress   or,
                                                                                        firm sadness?
                                                                                       In thought
                                                                                  our breath,
                                                                               ultimately,
                                                                         fuels the fire.
                                                                   Even as you twist
                                                                       and contort.
                                                                            while in
                                                                                 my eyes
                                                                                     this world
                                                                                         condemned
                                                                                                          you
                                                                                                             to
                                                                                                        your
                                          _____________________________demise_____