Bad Poetry Tuesday

The Unbearable Lightness of Fire
by [REDACTED]

Her flames lick the seasoned wood
of last year's holly tree
cut down to make more room
and tunneled under to make more light.
Her smoke floats and slips
between the branches
seeking to escape
to send signals to the world about her fate.
But still she sits trapped
caged in rings of stone
Fed, yes, always fed
but poked and prodded
pushed and shoved.
And then the feedings end.
She withers, shrinks
Until she goes quietly into that good night
Nothing left to burn against the dying of the light.