We are not afraid of fire

When we see its beauty and feel its warmth from distance.
When we watch how it moves and dances simulating to be alive.
When we hear its soft voice which sound changes
depending on what, or whom, the fire eats.


We try not to be afraid of fire

When we feed it with dead, dry things hoping that it gives us warmth in return.
When we let it stroke our food with its merciless heat to make it tastier for us.
When we let it eat our torches to light up darkness with its body.
When we use its heat to cast metal, to create merciless weapons.
When we take advantage of fire's never-ending hunger.
And its lust to destroy. Lust.


We are afraid of fire

Once we are the next one it eats.
Once it blinds our eyes.
Once it fondles our body,
and hugs us with its endless hunger,
ignoring our screams and struggles.


But we don't want to be reminded of fire's lust for others' sufferings

while we are blinded by its beauty,
and hypnotized by its movings.
While we feel save using it as a weapon,
and as our God to entrust to our families, friends, and our lives.


While we talk about heaven,
we use hell's tools.