Fire is the beginning and ending of all things.
Like the sword upon the ground or the phoenix that sings.

It comes after the dirge and with bells in halls.
And it comes with the emptiness and after she calls.

It obfuscates itself to darkness for those whom laugh.
And gives itself to those who are in need of a path.

Quill and hand alone will make the parchment a black mire.
But, will make it wondrous when combined by a fire.