It's just a small fire

Crisp,

Crisp,

Crisp.

A word describing the crunchy leaves burning down,

As sad faces look up with a frown.

The trees slowly burning down, gracefully leave the down dull memories. 

The horrid hot fires burning the trees as people look with fear,

Birds screaming in the orange, burning sky is all they can hear.

Animals holding on for their life as they're being destroyed,

Seeing the world falling apart, being annoyed.

The colour slowly fading away.

The orange hot sky filled with hot burns,

Fierce fire waiting for a return.

Soil getting deeper and deeper,

Ashes filling it as it gets steeper and steeper.

Tears falling from my eyes,

Watching the beautiful land as it slowly dies.

As fires start spreading around,

The trees start falling to the ground.

Is it really just a small fire?