I marvel at my creation

It begins tiny

Yet soon grows

Crackle

A miasma of plasma

Dances in front of my eyes

Fighting off the chill

Of the cold and cruel winter air

I smile whilst it greedily consumes its food

I feed it still

Yet it still hungers

It grows and its hunger grows

It rises

it spreads

It consumes

At the end

It brutally consumes me

Its creator