It is with this oak that I burn my soul into
It is with every etch that I burn my desires
scorching in my undeniable passion
with the smokey rings that consume the air around me
the smell of the smoldering wood brings me peace as I create
I'm high with a fervor for my work
I'm obsessed, Mindlessly pressing and burning
My mind watches each flare, Flash, Flicking light
that dances with the smoke
each red ember ignites my lust for completion
But what happens when I am finally whole?