Arsonist

I love the smell of fresh ash
and how it falls like snow
the blackened boughs begin to crash
they fall to the earth below

walking now through this quiet
I sense I'll never belong
in my heart there is only silence
in my mind everything seems wrong

But I love the smell of flowers
freshly bloomed in the spring
I could wander in meadows for hours
while I listen to the birds sing

the way they fall to their death
with each step I take
cries of pain and there's nothing left
just feathers that drift into the lake

I love the smell of fire
setting flame to pretty scenes
and I know I would be a liar
if I kept away from kerosene

So I gaze upon my creation
the carnage of what is left
and within this violation
I realize taking life is theft

But I love the smell of fresh ash
and how it falls like snow
the blackened boughs begin to crash
they fall to the earth below