Waiting To Be Doomed

Trees covered in flames,
hills demolished and crushed.
On the ground he passed
obvious signs of rush...

He knows who he is
and time he sure does kill.
For him that's everything,
life's made of thrills.

He mastered the fire
or so does he think,
his power is great
but there's a missing link...

The air does not bother him;
others fly, he does not care.
At their wings he rarely looks
thinking he could use a pair.

He dreamt that one day
the wings will start to grow,
and when he least expected
a bump begins to show...

Happines all over
his youthfull and fresh body;
he needn't stay so lower
than his blissful buddies.

He took off.
Thin air he did breathe.
"What a lovely feeling", he thought,
"This is all I need!"

His power found a way to show,
fire slowly vanished:
These things he did know
but was feeling replenished.

Enjoing his flight
he didn't realy see
the price he'll have to pay,
the price that's not a fee...

The cruelty of life,
the backstabbing knife:
He heard one day
that his wings will be deprived!

They even told him the exact time
he will lose his gift.
It's like in his mind
a curse has been lift...

Fire and power over flight he pressed.
Confusion in his mind,
nothing to contrive.
He just lied depressed.

He looks at his wings,
sometimes even swings.
His fate he salutes,
waiting to be doomed...