Embers of the Night

Day

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In the heart of night where shadows prance,
There lies a tale of the fire’s dance.
A flickering waltz of orange and red,
A ballet of flames where fears are fed.

The forest sleeps, but not tonight,
For flames awaken with ravenous light.
They leap and twirl with devil’s grace,
Consuming all in their fiery embrace.

The dance begins with a single spark,
A nightmare born from the ember’s mark.
It grows and roars, a beast unchained,
A pyre’s waltz, wild and untamed.

The trees, they scream in silent dread,
As fire consumes their leafy bed.
The animals flee, their refuge lost,
In the fire’s dance, a deadly cost.

The man who watches, eyes aglow,
Finds himself entranced by the show.
But soon he learns this dance is dire,
For he’s not just the viewer, but the pyre.

The flames, they whisper his name aloud,
A chorus of heat, fierce and proud.
They beckon him join their fervent spree,
To dance in the fire, forever free.

He steps within the burning ring,
His skin ignites, an offering.
The fire’s dance, a cruel jest,
For in its arms, he’ll find no rest.

The nightmare grows, the woods alight,
A conflagration in the night.
The fire’s dance, a fearsome sight,
Where hunter becomes the hunted’s plight.

So heed this tale of fiery trance,
Lest you be caught in the fire’s dance.
For once it starts, it never ends,
A nightmare waltz that fate attends.

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