The Blazing Algorithm
Every conflagration
in this world is supposed to burn,
And get burned.
The woods of the
fire or the fern,
Are supposed to
burn,
But there are some
logs which burn with patience,
They are the
foundation woods.
They associate
together to get burned, only then if they are their,
When the
conflagration starts,
Through a complex
but therefore simple way of getting burned,
The various aspects
combust but these at last,
The blue, the green
and flushed yellow combine to blaze together,
The ferns then
burn, twigs and sticks await their turn.
The flames blaze up
and then comes the turn of the middle men,
They are one of the
conspiracy lots,
Middle fuel that
corrupts but maintains the blazing plot,
Then at last base
is fumed, passing through that inferno,
These foundation
associates are like sticky clots,
They support the configuration
and then at last turn to Smokey float,
That’s pretty much
like our life,
The termination of
the feeble, the conflagration of middle strong,
And the blossoming
of strong and rigid,
These rigid bodies
produce more and then,
Burn down to be
specters of their legacies,
This is the algorithm of every blaze a lot.
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