What can you hold,
with hands made of fire?
Attempting to warm
those lost in the cold;
pining to dispel
the darkest hallways.
Do I help,
or do I harm?
While intending
to inspire...
am I setting lives
on fire..?
Lonesome embers
leaping from my lips
and fingertips
of flint and steel...
should I keep them
to myself?

Passion spreads
like a forest fire,
Forgive me
if it burns,
I have so much
left to learn.