The Ire of the Fire


From the flames he rose,
The embers licking at his wounds.
The tear tracks that stained his face,
The pain he felt became his grace.

The fear he saw became his fire,
The determination to escape became his ire.

The scars marred his skin,
But he had to leave to save his kin.
And so, from the flames he rose,
The embers licking at his wounds.