The weather outside turns chill
The wind whistles all around me
A frostbite so harsh it kills
Blurs my vision so I cant see

I must find a shelter, a room
The freeze of winter is too strong
To watch a warm fire in bloom
Without one, I fear I dont have long

A house, a wonderful house!
Its perfect, and so strong its form!
I can light a fire that Ill never douse
And forever in its light, Ill be warm

A pile of wood piled up in the pit
Strike a match - one, two, three
It flickers to light, flames in a fit
I can feel the warmth surrounding me

I curl up on the floor, happy and pleased
Warm and content, I drift off to sleep
My weary, frostbitten limbs are appeased
A soft crackle, its only hint of a peep

I dream of dancing with the flames
Twirling, orange, yellow, and red
Burning and turning, moving untamed
Surrounding me on my floorboard bed

The flames that once made me so warm
Now lick and burn my skin
They move and singe my dying form
Raging and twisting from within

The house that once stood so strong
Is now crumbled, burned to the ground
The falling snow makes it look so calm
Piling up upon the charcoaled mound

Now, not only am I once again out in the cold
But my skin is burned, singed, and scarred
Be careful when choosing a fire so bold
For you might just end up cold AND charred


Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Sarapin, in the year 438 AF.