And in between the ice and the fire we created,
And the creations were poor but some we used,
And those we remembered,
And in our best moments built upon them,
So in the time between the ice and the fire,
We became those creations,
Because they were all we were allowed to be,
As if something would not let us move beyond them,
For some reason or perhaps for no reason,
For it may be blind and moves without knowledge,
Other than the need to move to the next ice or fire.


© 2016