The Burning House

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She was the one who was painted with ash,
Caught in the flames, she knows there’s no escape.
All the walls around her suddenly crash,
There is no worry, that with her she takes.
She doesn’t run. It’s she who set fire.
And now not caring if she lives or dies,
She walks outside as the flames expire.
Knowing he’s in there and dead, she won’t cry,
She’ll search the ashes looking for his ring,
He was the one to leave, now he’s to blame.
She must be certain with the dead he sings,
That he won’t rise and haunt her from the flames.
Sitting down on the curb, waiting for lights
Of red and blue to take and end her life.

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