Cycle of Violence

The world turned orange,
And all I could see was the flame.
It stared into my soul,
Daunting and illuminating
Everything I longed to hide.
My entire mind and body wanted
To extinguish this flame,
This evil flame, dancing in my face.
I had passed the river hours ago,
It was too late to walk back.
I reached into my pocket
To find a can of bug spray.
How convenient that it followed me
Into these dark woods.
Without thinking, I sprayed into the flame.
Anything to make it stop.
The flame grew bigger,
The fire spitting at my feet.
I aimed at the raging red again,
Only to ignite the wrath even more.
This cycle of violence,
This hate fighting hate,
Led me nowhere.
It only burned at my soul even more.
I would have to trudge back
Towards the river.
The river that held the source
Of life and rebirth.
The one thing that could cure
This raging flame of hatred.
For I could not save myself
By matching the evil that bit at me.
The goodness that I once passed
Was what would break me
Away from this cycle of violence.