SMOKE MOTES I could see the dancing flame, Eyes of fright behind the windowpane. Smoke motes vacated the flume, While more vapor seeped into the room. I tried to shout to people unaware, Some looked but carried on without a care. As every suffocating minute passed, I could almost feel the heat at last. I dare not open the door for fear, I am engulfed in a fiery sphere. Coughing, choking, constricting air, My mind a tangle with despair. If only a smoke alarm had been installed, Lying on the floor coughing sprawled. It seems so ironic that I’m coughing, For not much longer that’s where I will be stopping. Engine noises in my subconscious mind, Getting fainter as the smoke entwined. Soon the rasping stops I am still, Not aware of the fireman’s drill. Hot is replaced by cold, smoke taken away, Now all that remains is a headstone and bouquet.Birth sign: Scorpio
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