Fire

Destroys. Creates. Burns. Freezes. Charred ashes. The first buds. Searing heat. Moments locked in time.

One word, many meanings-each more layered than the last. And no matter how much deeper one delves, one can't unearth the heart of it. Not many can find the real meaning of the flickering tendrils of heat that unleash their burden toward the heavens.

Only one knows. And he's of a higher power.

~HOME~

How far are you willing to go to save it?

Home. Many people differ when it comes to the meaning. Some think of it as simply four walls of whatever material on hand, somewhere where people can live. Some think of it as a family. Some think of it as a feeling, which only people can feel in their hearts.

Some think on it as an illusion that doesn't exist.

A very fragile thing. A group of people that might never have crossed paths if not linked by the very thing they hate most. Blood. Blood is thicker than anything-or so they say. But fragile bonds of trust are easily broken-and, as history proves again and again, most people aren't afraid to break it.

Some people choose to simply leave in the dead of night, where secrecy lays their worries to rest. Some do it at a big event, where the tension mounts to breaking poing so they can hear the screams of their blood stretch before them through the fabric of time.

Some kill.

It is easier this way. The leaving of something a person has known all their life occurs only when hard-pressed. Something big. Death, birth, betrayal, or above all, secrets.

And some will kill all who know of the secret-for secrets are always, always, meant to be kept.

Some kill.

And-history once again repeats itself-when brother turns on brother and blood turns on blood, most choose to kill with fire.

That way, they only have to hear the screams once.

That way, they only have to rend their soul-once.

~FIRE~

So there is no path for escape.

~LOVE~

Is it real? And if it is, is it worth it?

Lost hope. Stories tell of last stands, victory, and above all-the illusion of love.

Illusion. Very convincing, but not real.

Roses are white for a reason.

Lost love, love dead, dead dreams, dreams unfulfilled, unfulfilled lives, lives shattered. The stars circle the heavens in the same merry dance as souls wander the world, broken. All because of love.

Some regard it as a wonder that people even dare love in their teens. Almost often shattered-often crushed. Hearts broken. Lives lost. Young love often circles to puppy love. Dead love. Unreal. Maybe just a schoolyard crush. Like the myth of love-at-first-sight-an illusion. Nothing else.

Is it worth it?

Those who have found love-or what they think is love-say yes. They talk of fire burning in their hearts, passion, anything they want.

Those who haven't, or didn't, or don't, or won't, say no. Their lives have been crushed-or in the luckier ones, they have seen lives crushed. They want no more. They have life. That is enough.

These ones hope that someday, they will learn to laugh again.

But, to be frank, they doubt it.

~FIRE~

The fire in one's heart can be extinguished by the water of reality.

~JOBS~

What is one's purpose in life?

Laugh about it when you're young, dream about it when you're older, try to do it when you're older still, and spend the rest of your life hoping you've done it right.

Everyone in life has a purpose.

Cliched. Over-used. Maybe this is because a good deal of us now know that some people don't have a purpose-or at any rate not a very important one. Some sit through life, prim and proper, casting shadows at the backs of our minds when they're gone. Some float through it like strands of seaweed, there when they're there, gone when they're not, and not leaving a single trace of themselves when it's over. Some try to, no mistake-but there's so many people trying and only so many that can make a difference that usually these people either end up failing, or do for a while then fade, or don't make as big of a difference as they hoped. Changing the world is all very well, but it's all very hard.

Some try hard not to and end up becoming one anyway.

But answers to these questions are difficult to explain. They are cast in doubt, muddled with debate. So instead of answering, many chose to continue questioning until they come up with a question that can be answered, a definite yes or no as opposed to the iridescent maybes of today.

How far is one willing to go to attain, and eventually complete, one's purpose in life?

No one is indisposable. Some people give up on their purpose in life-or indeed, some give up on even hoping they will have a purpose in life.

Some are fired.

~FIRE~

If you lose your purpose, what are you? A wisp of smoke in a dying fire.

~WEAPON~

Is the pen mightier than the sword? If so, is it mightier than the gun?

What is truely the strongest weapon?

There are the oldest ones, the ones that have retained faithfully for century upon century. There is the sword, worn by many a brave knight, samurai, warrior facing their doom. There is the battle-axe, wielded by the strongest and held high by deities of war in revered whisperings. There is the dagger-the one that sneaks and spys, creeps across the darker sides of death that assassins, ninjas, spies often use. Bombs, destructive meetings of the mind, friend of sabotours, destruction and death-that can bring ends to the greatest destructions as it can cause it. Clubs, the ones that started the abomination of war and the one that might possibly end it. And, the recent invention-guns-deadly projectiles, smaller than a thumb, relying on speed and sound to push them farther into success than any other weapon. Whether this achievement is good or bad, we shall leave to mankind's thirst for bloodlust to find out.

There is the one that is rumored mightier. The pen.

The pen that writes about lore, legend, and fantasy can also set on paper ideas meant to infuriate people, to take a strong nation and use it to stomp a weaker one into the dust. It can be used to call a land into rightful rebellion, summon an army and point it at the enemy so much stronger than it. It can kill. It can heal.

Some say there is no strongest weapon. To suggest so would be absured. To ask what is the strongest weapon for killing, the strongest weapon for exciting people, the strongest weapon for murdering.

They are wrong.

There is a strongest weapon.

The mind. The mind is the thing that puts all these together. The mind is the one that forms the words the pen will write. The mind, the raw willpower stored within it, is what gives a man the determination to load a bullet, take his aim, pull a trigger, and do the unthinkable for his nation and family. The mind is what sets human apart from animals.

Load the mind with inspiration, take your aim, and fire.

No one can tell how many people it will kill.

~FIRE~

Thought is a stronger weapon than any man can dream up.

~THRILL~

If you live for the thrill, that means there's nothing to do once you're in heaven.

Eyes light up, heartbeat quickens, the very sunshine seems to illuminate your path, the very wind to sweep you off your feet and catapult you into the air. For that minute, the world is beautiful.

Then it is over.

The excitement is gone.

It's all very quick.

Then again, the best things in life are always over too quickly.

~FIRE~

Nowadays, I can't tell you how many people get fired up about nothing.

~HELL~

The phrase "go to hell" means a lot more than you might think.

Eternal fire, where the fated are forever doomed.

It's not a place to joke about.

Then again, some people only joke about it because they know, they know that some people go to it.

And it's much easier to joke than to take it seriously, when you never know who's going and who's not.

~FIRE~

To be trapped in endless fire and live there forever...I'd think I'd rather die without an afterlife, thanks.

Only one knows, and he delights in speaking when he's not asked.

What is the real meaning of the word fire? None know. Probably no one will ever know.

Fire is the center of everything. Fire is what sets this world apart. Fire in the heart, fire on the ground, fire is everywhere. In the smallest thing, anywhere-you can find fire everywhere. Common people revere it, and powerful people have to be careful with it, lest they find they use it too quickly to realize what they have done.

Cahills.

The greatest, the best. One liquid changed the fate of one family to make it become the father of all powers, the minds that pushed the world beyond the brink of the normal into greatness.

Death. Trapped in a burning place. All around the heat-unbearable. Flickering dangerously close. Licking aginst your skin in unberable pain, boiling the very blood. Then blackness. The bright, intense lights. You have died. Heaven is not as far off as you thought.

Some plants must grow in fire. A shock, that life could thrive in the very worst of places-but the truth, nevertheless. Certain bits of life grow from death. Irony and the cruel nature of fate mixed in one.

Under a setting sky, curled around a roaring midsummer bonfire. After this, something will come up-but under a sky riddled with shades of red, orange, purple, a multitued of hues, it's easy for time to stop and the world to be caught in the whirl of sun and sky.

Life. Death. Full stop. Whirling speed.

Flame.

~A Circle Has No Beginning~