The primals jerk and dance their praise of fire.
A glorious red blaze separates their world from the darkness.
Screams pierce the night in worship to the god of the flame,
As an outsider, post above the fire - tied by grass and virgin wood,
Cries and pleads to that mighty inferno to consume him
Quickly, lest he know the pain.
The outsider is unknowing of this passionate burn
And the flickers never creep upon him, consciously so.
An outsider to this love he so desperately wants,
He always feels the heat, yet he is never consumed
By the fire.
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