Flaming crimson wisps breathe out a sharp grey smoke
Pristine green burned to crumbly pitch black eventually fading away
Panic sprouts from the heated seed, screams scatter among the planes
With weak frantic voices issuing wilting decrees
Urgently stumbling, barely grasping rusted iron buckets
Filled up with a deep dark blue, hurled against the scarlet fire
Hissing as it recoils, leaving a scar of darkness no light could heal
Yet, rising once again with a piercing roar at its wake
Devouring the splendid green and brilliant brown
Only a permanent shadow remains, a symbol of what would never return
Like sharp grey smoke rising to the sky, unreachable