A lambent ember, it is.
In the midst of the ruthless gloam
it’s alive, yet visibly struggling
in the cradle of coldness that
threatens to put it out.
It rose from the ashes, of an empire
that had been brought down
by the great arsons of time, and
from one place to another
it is flurried about by the heartless winds
for almost a quarter of a century now.
Yet what is failed to cover by the Shadow
in throwing the ember’s way maelstroms
the passion gets only more incensed,
the night becomes intense with
the formation of smoke halos in the air.
Drifting above a town asleep
a creature comes to blaze like
a comet shooting, fanned to
conflagration by oppression–
on full-blown fire now, it is.