DorianNavarre

If ever a miracle paid its evidence daily to the senses of man That Gods once walked the Earth and shaped it with their footfalls Let Fire's roar sound the proof and its all consuming blaze capture the eyes Of those fit to see it What in man that makes him human falls short of fire? We are made warm by the beating, rapid, quickening heart in our breast Even though the most passionate of us can be vibrantly animate yet cold to the touch Fire it burns it pushes it affects changes it lifts it warms it colors it fuels all that kindles our spark of the divine Prometheus was let off easy with his smorgasborded entrails left to the crows