To play a game,
With the dancing flame,
Is a dangerous move,
As history proves.

You must keep it lit,
and also control it.
Keep it small,
and don't let it fall.

If you lose you will burn,
and your loved ones will mourn.
If you win you will gain,
but not without pain.
Fire is a tool,
and consumes the fool.

Passionate, bright flames,
they last for but a moment,
to become nothing.

Demonic, for it
consumes your being, a hole
ever expanding.

******, crimson moon,
The souls of those who've fallen,
Pleading for comfort.

My hands are trembling,
my mouth is dry.
My toes are numb,
my stomach is churning.
This feels like a dream.
I look at you,
a body missing its soul,
an empty shell of a human.
As the comforting cover of disbelief shatters,
cold, paralyzing waves of realization wash over me.
You’re gone.

O golden guardian!
O sun above!
Guide me through
this darkest night.
I’ll trust in you
to shine your light.
Send me just one brilliant ray
and through this challenge I’ll never fall astray.
Burn the prize
into my eyes
and send me forth
on the path of radiance.