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"It burns, it burns on a moonless night,
Beneath the dusky sky,
It burns with such a fiery fervor,
Fated to blind the bravest sight.
The embers explode into a thousand suns,
Tearing through the darkness,
The cracking crevice creaks like thunder,
As through flesh and bone it runs.
Crowns of a crimson hue are born,
From its sacred infernal womb,
Crafted to last all eternity,
As cautious cloaks are merrily torn.
It rages, it rages through the ages,
Unfazed, untouched,
Causing immaculate roses to blossom,
Amidst a desert full of sleeping sages." - A collection of poems
