Fires

Not the fire from which the phoenix is born; Not the fire of the furnace that turns iron to steel; Not the fire of passion that takes me to the sun; But like the fire of the sun that melts my wax wings; Or the fires of hell that scorch my soul And the fires of the steak to which I am tied-- A funeral pyre that will destroy all trace of my earthly life. But the fire inside me won't let me die "Fight fire with fire" is my mind's desperate cry For I too am a fire, albeit, a tiny fire Started as a controlled burn in a fireplace to keep others warm. But I am stoked by greater fires. And after the fires beyond me consume me I will remain, burning, as smoldering embers. Those fires will burn out before I will.