Cold Fire
There's a fire in Winter, is there no one to blame?
Or is this all some maniac's game?
Lives will be lost and tales will be told.
To save the day, Daja must be bold.
There are more fires than usual, that much is true.
Will you be able to put together the clues?
Are the fires set or nature's mother?
Or perhaps a neighbor or brother?
Friendship are broken and trust is torn.
Either way, these fires will be born.
And if there is a criminal to catch,
Will the experts be able to get this wretch?
Perhaps Daja might be closer than she thinks,
To this criminal pyro with the awful stink.
This stink of death, might it lead to a past?
Where a life was lost oh-so fast?
Or is it punishment for those houses of wood?
Is this murder? I wish I could tell you, oh that I could.
But I cannot, for you must read this story of magic.
Of friendship, of trust, and of a fire, tragic.
Come, be a detective and read this tale.
But be careful, my friend, for this book is frail.
This is a poem I had to write for school about Tamora Pierce's book "Cold Fire". I'm not a big fan of it, myself, because it makes the book seem more like a murder mystery, but it's the best poem I've written so far. Eh, what can I say? I'm not a poet.