Work Text:
In the dark, hazy wasteland far-off fires burn.
You can't see their light or feel their heat,
But they rage all the same.
You can't tell if they burn in love or burn in pain,
You wish you didn't know there was a difference.
You wish they could just burn with nothing else to it,
But that's not how these fires work.
You wish they would just stop when you don't feed them,
But that's not how these fires work.
The haze gets thicker and thicker,
yet you just sit there as ash keeps piling up.
Every spec of gray you've become acquainted with,
Turned each over in your hand a dozen times.
Eventually they all crumble to cold snow,
yet scorch you like the flames that birthed them.
You ignore the pain, because sleep will sooth it.
You ignore the snow, because dreams will keep you warm.
You don't build a hearth, because you can't keep it lit.
You don't leave, because far-off fires burn.