The Inner Fire

In the countryside, where the endless emerald prairies grow and the fresh scents of life flourish, there lives a man. He stands on his porch to relish the strong house that he built with his bare hands. And although he took pride in all of its contents, he couldn't take his eyes off of the fireplace he had constructed.

It was the center of his humble abode and it fluctuates with his heart. The flames were white and they flickered with no sign of fear or foolishness. It was a wise fire and it knew him as well as the Burning Bush knew Moses.

The man stared at the hearth and became confused, for it seemed as if the blazing angel was beckoning him to come inside. But before he could take a step past the threshold, he noticed the sky was rapidly changing from azure to an orange scarlet. With curiosity peaked, he stood on the porch and stared past the expansive prairies. Something was coming, and it was coming fast.

The closer the red stranger got, the louder the fire crackled. The man's heart began to beat rapidly while the fire grew manic as if screaming, "STAY IN YOUR HOME!" But he is a man of questions, for he never trusted his spirit, the willpower that guided him through his existence, his inner fire.  He looked at the fire and smiled as if saying, "I'll come back" and closed the door.

The moment that door was locked in place, the man turned around and stood in pure terror at what he saw. In front of him was a massive wildfire. The fire had spread throughout the prairie and seared all life in its path. The flames were orange and crimson yet when the man looked closer, he could see that there were black flames among the rest. The onyx inferno was yanking and shoving its colored counterparts like a leader persuading its followers, a majority insulting the minority. Like Satan commanding his demons.   

The combination of dread and lament that emitted from the fiery grave choked the man as he became engulfed in its persuading grip. While being dragged away, he saw the fire burning his home. He knew now that he should have stayed with his fireplace. He could feel its white flames decaying as it became consumed by the black sin and transformed into a red sinner. The man joined in the wailing cries that became the whipping and snapping sounds of the blazing oblivion.

He became a conformer, a man whose potential was replaced with blind obedience. Driven by his lust for answers, he became a part of the influential ink that stains the minds and hearts of those with pure white inner fires. And now, he will forever lurk among the flames of the eternally damned, scorching the prairies of life and its people of change.