If I walk slowly around the flames
I won’t get burned. But every time
I try to bypass them, a land mine
blasts me into pieces so little,
I’m not sure if it was me being blown up.
If I stay where I am,
The wind will pull the fire closer.
I’ll be a pitched black corpse, but tell me,
Am I not one already?
Walking dumb and shadowy,
Fading away as I do my daily routine,
Going to bed invisible and grim.