A torch in the night

Crackling and spitting sparks

Chirping like a lark

A blanket against the cold

Comfort in the dark

Burnt pine and pitch

Sweet and pungent

Flames licking the abyss

Teary eyes that cannot look away

Hypnotized in flames history

How many men have done the same

Entranced like a moth

Drifting and floating

Senses heightened but dull

The screaming that normally fills my head

Has ceased echoing in my skull

I fall back to the nameless flame

Simplicity in its creation

Fuel air and ignition

But within that simplicity

Are complex intricacies

Nuances that can be understood

Floating on twisting rivers

Rapids within my mind

Whitecaps splash

Within these darkening waves

I see the dimming flickers

Jolted back to awareness

By the erratic crackling of pines cries

Into the flames I fall

Within the sunburst

And blackened wood

I hear the sirens call.