He splashed
The water
On the fire.
He brutally
Murdered something
Wonderful.
But at the same time,
He created something new.
Before,
The fire was
Warming everything around it
With its countless red arms.
Afterwards,
There weren’t any arms of red,
But instead a gray,
Gentler,
Bunch of arms,
Slowing moving up
Into the deep abyss
Of the sky.
The fire wasn’t destroyed,
But merely transformed,
Into something
Not necessarily
Better
Or
Worse,
But just
Different.