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Dance of the Fire

 

I’m like a Red Indian that dances around the fire,
I pray that the rain falls but all I do is create more smoke,
Dancing and dancing till my legs grow tire,
I slowly dance till I eventually give way and choke,
All night long I casually lead myself to this mire,
Pleading, crying, screaming, yelling,
But the rain still doesn’t fall,
The cloudy skies and the sacred winds I admire,
The rain never ever comes
And I slowly fall into my self made pyre.

 

studiscalp

By Sukhbir, March 24th, 2010. 9.18 PM

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