You are fire to me,
The most precious thing for life,
Stolen from
The private treasure of gods.
You keep my heart warm
In the cold seasons of sorrow.
You turn my tasteless daily dough
Into delicious, sweet-smelling bread.
You fill with light
The long nights of my loneliness.
You are fire to me,
But if you try to seize my soul,
You would burn me to ashes,
And make me hate the sun.
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