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In between the orange-red tongues of flame
The scorching heat and roaring fire
The reddening furnace and billowing smoke
They sat cool, like lovers in Paris
Stars devoid of scars
Glaring and glistening, fine backs
Smeared with olive oil
Only moving for a high-five

Like a juicy wild fruit
Borne of a thorny vine
With a sting so sharp
And a skill so vile
I’m entrapped
Amidst scented flowers and wide petals
Where bees hover over and serpents hiss under
I’m caught and very lost

You are like a game
Played in the rain and snow storm
One with a priceless prize
A charade, not like the one with clues
Since night is here and lights are out
But more of a riddle going round a camp fire
No one else knows the answer, I do
But they said it’s a dream so I got no voice

See you are fire, I am the ore
You blaze fiercely in the wind
I sit quietly waiting for you, in the furnace
But you just burn yourself out, scaring vipers and rats
Look back and burn me up
Chasten me in your flare till I glare
Wash me free of rock and debris
Watch me make a name for us, Fire and Gold.

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