What about burning wood? It’s warm, there’s no harm.
Aged by intense heat of sunlight, you know that’s right
It shrinks small and turns as thin as itself, the stick, though some are thick.
There is something about those golden flames
Fidgeting and flickering just like in the game.
Ever so eager to dance around the kettle
As it rattles a song of a battle.
Don’t despise them just because it’s summer
Sooner or later it’ll be winter.
Make sure you fit in those sweaters
Oh! look over the horizon, it’s coming now there’s no waiting for later.
As fire tirelessly chews and smokes away the wood
Its scent found a permanent place in my senses, to me it’s like a food.