Fire City

When you look into the fire, what do you see?
Well, not the flames that hiss and flicker for me.
In fact when I stare deep into the hearth,
I discover a land that's never in the dark.

I call it 'Fire City'; as the name implies,
a community forms once the flames arise .
A land of flames born on hot burning coal,
whose people walk through it but never out its soul.
The crackling of fire? I discovered is in fact
the talking of natives, together in contact.
And these inhabitants I watch, they're never in vain,
by devouring the coal, their strength they sustain.
When disguising themselves as the sparks of the heat.
They fly from their city to get something to eat.

Yet the very next morning when the fire has died out,
the city is gone. So I pester and pout.
My own little land, visible in daydreams
will never thrive as long as our fireplace is clean.
But I will not fall, nor yield or yearn.
For when coal is aflame, my city returns.
I'll tell you this now, when its energy is right,
I will make sure that it is never destroyed in the night.