and there was Fire.

It came floating, gently,
the breeze made the haystack shiver.
The oakwood door,swaying on its hinges,
creaks out its own music.
And there by the wall,
burning solemnly,
sat Fire.

He was small,insignificant.
Giving off warmth and glow,
to anyone,anything that came by His way.
Fire was not cruel by nature,
but no saint He was.
Fire wanted to do more,
to escape this small grating.
He moaned and wailed His frustration,
and the breeze heard Him.

Scooped up by breeze's gentle hold,
Fire allowed Himself to be carried,
to be sent sailing through the blessed air.
Ah! the sheer Joy!
No longer did He had to sit on that old faggot anymore.
Breeze,seeing how Fire happy was,
brought him soaring to greater heights,
and just as abruptly,
breeze dropped Him.

Fire experienced free fall,
for all He cared, He cared not.
Down he sank, spiralling,
till the end,
sat on a haystack.
How this infuriated Him,
He deserved a better place!
His anger fueled Him,
blackening His red fiery heart.
He grew and grew,
towering.
Gulping down the hay.

So this is what it feels like,
to be majestic,
thought Fire,
as He continued his frenzied gluttony.
He cared not what it was made of,
swallow everything,render them to ashes,
was all His mind could play.
Higher and higher,
Fire yearned to reach the Heavens,
to show how great He had become.

He staggered,
as simple as that,
and His stagger turned to a fall.
A fall that He could not stop.
He felt himself diminishing,
shrinking.
The whole place looked empty,
all was covered in soot,
black as night.
Fire struggled,writhing with all his might.
He willed himself to incinerate,
to ignite again with all the splendour.
Yet,
all was in vain.

Fire turned to ember,
to spark,
to a glow,
alas,with a great sigh,
was no more.