The fires crackle again…it’s that time of year…
The fields rustle…and gently sway…as the flames leap closer…
Towards dried stalks of wheat and barley…an offering…
Burning…burning…burning…
Where are you?
Shouts the snaking river of heat…
Searching…for something more…something real…to consume…
And the walls…surrounding her…hiding the pain…in the name of salvation…almost ready to fall…
They will hold fast…stay strong…just for a little more…
So that…the white ball…of exploding fury…can light up…from within…
The walls…falling…down…down…down…
Until the days pass…and the nights reign…and the fires come…again.
Colloquially Speaking 
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