As I watch, it brightens,
Blindingly accurate in it's ascension to the heavens.
I must turn my eyes to the world around,
For fear of missing the effect it has,
For fear of obsession.

No,
It falls at a break-neck speed,
Tearing the weeping clouds to shreds.
Raindrops hissing,
As they touch the smoldering feathers.

I can do nothing but try and catch it.
Regardless of pain I might suffer.
The piercing scream I hear,
Matches the one ripped from my own throat.

Raising my arms to catch what is left,
My only reward is a light brush,
Of ash on my face.
With a sob, I drop my arms,
Not seeing the spark of flame,
In my skin.