a poem by Porthos

Some say that fire is dangerous,
A bitter thing, that burns and sears,
But others think it beautiful,
A light to them throughout their years:
Myself, I think it glorious,
And if I had my heart’s desire
I’d wrap the world in leaping flames
And gaze into that endless fire.

Some think me wandering and obsessed,
Inconstant as the changing flame:
I thank them for their courteous words
That they should think us thus the same:
For surely nothing is so fair,
Nothing can give so bright a light,
Nothing so joyful and so warm,
Nothing else can dispel death’s night.

As I pursue my changing life
I am reminded with each breath
That we grow old and will decay,
In all of us awaits our death:
But with the fire that I command
I burn away mortality
And leave true beauty in the ash
To last for all eternity.