I find things...
little things.
So... so small.
it clings to my touch
and I'm on fire.
I bat it away,
and i'm cold.
but I can tell its cold too.
...all alone. scared.
then I notice how alone i am.
how scared...
but still i call it closer.
and i feel it again,
burning at my fingertips.
I feel it's fear,
it's remorse,
and guilt.
But still,
I beckon it closer.
Because,
I feel compelled
to protect it.
Even if it burns me,
and my embers fly.
And the wind takes whats left of me.
'til I am all alone,
scared,
and cold...
Again.