The Arsonist

Eliz



He stood there.

The intensity of his penetrative gaze was brighter than the flames ahead of him.

The sound of fire-crackling ,feeling of scorching heat and a thick scent of melted paint and burnt wood bitter to his nostrils; an abomination to the air surrounding him.

But this was his safe haven.
He was The Arsonist, consumed in seeking revenge in the raging fire.

  • Author: Eliz (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 14th, 2017 11:33
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 21
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors




To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.