a spark so small and humble
in my hands handled with care
turns so fast into a great fire
out of my arms out of my reach

burning in the distance
I slowly start to forget

fired up by words like razorshapes
fire little fire turns so great
fired up by thoughts like mould
fire little fire turn so huge

now just don't get to close
or you pay with scars and burns
nicely said, always sad
but how?

imagine a network of fire and hate
kreated by the people you know
following you on every step
and you are halfway there...

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