Fire

She consumes the furniture in the house,
Trailing her red tail along in cold blood.
This sad mother clothed in her red blouse,
Gulped all our property in one huge flood.


When her tongues were left to be the master,
She bares her fang in red-hot destruction
Battering all, and scattering all we gather.
Don't dare stay under her domination.


A good servant and bad master she is.
She must always be confined to your taste,
So that you will have peace and some sweet bliss.
And then your goods will not be a mere waste.


augustine oghanranduku

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