I am a forest. I've been here for a while.
Trees of idea, thought, and habit have sprung everywhere, and taken root.
You -I thought unwittingly- were a harmless spark.
I allowed you in, and my trees did not stop you.
I thought that coaxing and tending to such an innocent creature was safe; I thought that I could handle it. But nature is consistent and logic applies. Why did I think I could thwart either law?
Balance and reckoning were inevitably coming, I just ignored it.
It isn't your fault though, and for your ignorance I cannot blame you.
You blossomed into flame, and I realized as my trees began to smolder, that I was wrong all along.
Nature governs, and I can't change you. I can only alter your course, and try to minimize the damage. What started as a pleasant warmth and interest, is now an inferno filled with pain and regret.
All I can do is wait. Wait until you've burned everything and tainted everything with your flaming tendrils that you can, changing my world to black and leaving me with ash. Ashes and memories as a reminder of my mistakes.