The sky grew red, the light went out, everything was changing, when we were out and about. It showed no mercy, you felt just pain. People knew what not to do again.

The red sky grew hotter, the stars started to aline, we both knew we were running out of time. There was nothing we can do, nothing that we could say, except sit there, and make others stay.

Time was running out, people begin to shout, cries coming from within, screams coming from without. Its here, the day have begun, there's no time to run and get your gun. Its too late, we didn't make it in time. So now we must sit here until things are fine.

You grab my hand and won't let go. I tell you we will take things slow. You understand and help me to my feet, showing me you will help complete.

"The sky" you cry. We all look up. There in the mist of things, are five baby ducks. What is going on, how can this be, things are changing and now I can see.

People stop to stare, knowing its meaning, to see means to be made whole once more. Now there is no more taking life for granted,  more trying to make things right, no more fighting, and more making things bright.

All we needed was that red sky, the fire that was within and death that resides.  We needed that city burning down and death dancing around. Now we can see, that in-order for us to become one, we needed the burning tree.