To be in its presence is like a steel-smelting furnace with its white intensity,
Much like the futility of ignoring a campfire in the blackest night.
What draws me to the fire is the sight of myself with the skin gone, and soul aflame.
But I abhor that consuming heat because it responds only to that which is hot.
And it consumes, it consumes, and consumes
The Darkness, all... it is relentless.
Its world only of light, fury, and heat.
And I wonder as I contemplate the fire; to it, what has infinite intrinsic value?
And still, with interest, it consumes.