the fire cackles, laughing manically   
as it leaps from branch to branch
treetop to treetop, hollow to hollow,
destroying all in its wake
nimbly wriggling through the dense undergrowth
the smell of charred pine, and elder
mingling on the breeze with those scents of other blackened
trees
the fire dancing in the moonlight,
sparks leaping joyfully, gracefully arching downward
then setting the ground alight
a phoenix watches this, his pelt mirroring the euphoric forest fire's dance
but he does not share their joy,
nor is he frightened, he merely doesn't care
he does not try to put out the flames, though this with ease he could do,
for that would be a bit redundant
wouldn't it?
committing arson only to put out your blaze a few minutes later
for it was him, the fiend, who set this blaze
not that he cares he just stares and stares until his vision blurs
sightlessly gazing upon the havoc he has wrought