In the middle of somewhere near the “woods of nowhere”
A tiny fire, veiled well in sorrow was running here and there
He was lost for so long, and night was so stark
He couldn’t even remember that he could fight the dark
He would keep running wild, guided by his own flame
from plateaus known to the unseen plains
He felt so down, with absolutely nothing to cherish
Unknown to his own light, he was left alone to perish
the doubt was legitimate, his bearer hadn’t asked for him so long
and no one had sung in a long while, the “fire song”
as if there was no need he could suffice
as if his only purpose was waiting for his demise
What is a fire without purpose, he would often wonder!
Afraid of the gloom, he would wish to surrender!
He wished to glow and be used like he was used to be
someone to come and say, “Please! Can you help me?”
He was fire for god’s sake, not some lost elf!
The finder of the path, not the seeker himself!
He wanted to believe that his bearer shall come a day
if the fire was lost, how long in the dark could the man stay?
Just for his man, he kept the flame alive
without its fire how could the heart survive?
One day, he heard whimpers from the “cave of nothingness”
someone wept burying his boorish beardy face!
The little old fire took his flame to him
Yes he was still inferno, though a little dim.
Now you know,
Where the fire resides