The Sonnet of Fire

I have a fire, it burns inside me

And the minions of my self take their warmth

In bushels, from this tossed fiery sea

Thus enlivened with such blood, they go forth


I was cold till it was there.  Dead.  Asleep

In emptiness unknown, oblivion

But something new was placed deep inside me

While raging storm battles went crashing on


I touch another’s flame, great pleasure true

I ask him when he found his own fire made

He says he made his own, and I, mine too

Madness, but I can see his heart is swayed


Clearly our fires were built, Reason rules

You see, inside, we are men without tools


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