You know it will burn.
You know it will survive.
You know it's sincere -
While fuel remains it will light.
It's the heat
and it's absence
that moves us forward.

You know there is change.
You know there are cycles.
You know the phases of moon,
and in her light - fire.

I know there will be change.
I know the cycle fades.
I know that in the end
the only constant left
is my fire.

With fire, shadows cast.
Nothing here really lasts
more than dances of shadow
at the face of the abyss -
and still the fire breaths.

And when things grow too dark,
too dark to any to survive,
all ignites from a spark.

I will be the heat
of every spark.
The reason flames remember
why they burn.
The will inside the fire
before it learn its name.

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Aeguary, in the year 1004 AF.