When you walk through the forest after the fire death is all around you. The air is heavy with ashes and smoke. Even a short breath causes pain.

The ground in singed and scorched in every direction. Heat still rises from the rocks beneath your feet. You look for miles in all directions hoping for some tiny signal that not all life has disappeared.

My life feels like little more than the remains of the forest fire. I see no seeds or tiny leaves to indicate life.

Such a failure. Such a waste. Tears seem to be my only success in life and with them the pain and suffering they signify.

kebs