In the heat of battle she lies dormant
The flame of life questioned outside as thousands burn
The flicker can be seen through the window
But she doesn’t move to squash it

Instead, she basks in it
Lets the rolling orange lick her body clean
The subtle red cauterizing her wounds
Closing each hole with precision and painful accuracy

It is here she finds true peace
For what others fear she thirsts for
Like a newborn just latching on to a river of milk
Yearning for sustenance, balance, and life

Do not mistake her love for pleasure however
For she writhes at the flame
Hates it with a burning passion, but still doesn’t submit
As it is the only entity keeping her alive

This is how she will live the rest of her life
Hopelessly contained by a force she needs but doesn’t want
Forever trapped within her own being
Never able to be truly happy

And as the battle ceases she quiets
Lies in her bed and prays for the end of war,
the end of fight,
and the end of pain