Even through the fog, in the dead of the night.
When I came upon this magical flame,
It seemed to beckon me too, and even called out my name.
I was never really one to like a red flamed fire,
But this one I came to admire…
I’m usually so calm, quiet and collected,
Although, when around this flame, I’m like a joyous kid.
I sat and watched this beautiful flame flicker and dart around,
And my normally silent heart did pound.
So free…so feral…so lawless,
That I almost became envious.
I loved it so much, I wanted to keep the flame close by,
I knew that if I held it to close it would hurt, yet I still wanted to and didn’t know why.
The flame gets so big sometimes, and I just want to see it glimmer and shine…
And on days when it seems no one else sees it, I just want it to be mine.
Its eminently priceless to me,
So much that when its not around, I miss it awfully…
Day by day, the love for this fire grows stunningly,
Though, I still can’t touch it, even though I wait calmly.
I need this flame, because it gives me something that’s hard for me to grasp,
That enthusiastic freedom in life that hard for me to clasp.
It has that strength, like its untouchable,
Truly it is, and I want to be its equal…
But it seems that I’m destined to appreciate it from afar,
So I engrave it in my head like a deserving memoir.
As amazing as the flame is, in my mind it’s a wildfire,
One that I will always want, and still probably desire.
Because I adore something more than the flames outer shell,
It’s the raging core, that my soul did compel.
I hope this flame remembers me and how in this moment I feel,
And I will make a note that I felt something so real.
You gotta love the untouchables, yes?