Man of Fire

Sitting in his prison, the man of fire looked at his walls, No windows, or doors, only a vent for Air.

Air, stoked his fires, but none came through now, only a trickle, to tease his inner Fire.

Stuck in his prison, he lay there in his mind, Thinking of the Fires of the past,

The explosion that could be in his mind, he stared at the vent.

Waiting for the rush of Air, And the explosion of fire, of freedom.

It never comes, Only a small trickle of Air,

To keep his Fire alive, keep his spirit alive.

He lays waiting for Air,

To light the Fire within.

Waiting.

Simmering.

To his surprise, it opens.

Air rushes to him, enveloping.

The Fires catch, filling him with passion, he stands.

Air is filling his prison, his flames burn stronger.

An explosion of heat and Fire, the walls come down, freedom is his.

The man of Fire, burning bright looks around him, no prison of containment

He smiled, passion returned to him, he looked at Air, his savior forever.

Air fanned him on, making him burn brighter than ever, for the world to see him better.

Fire in turn let off heat, letting Air to wave to the world, so she could be seen better.

They would be together, showing each other to the world, how right they were for each other.  Air and fire