Kids in schools,
we scratched them on paper,
to decide our love,
and enmity capers;

Grew a little older,
a lot more malicious,
lighters and spray bottles,
not really that vicious;

Older now
and they rage inside,
deep shades of blue and orange,
just under the hide;

Engulfing our hearts,
our minds and desires,
we’re perpetually drowning,
in our incandescent fires;

From pages in a book,
to exotic sexcapades,
through flames we are born,
and into them we shall fade;

An iridescent life of scalding white flashes
we shall wither one day into monochrome ashes.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar