The fire has died, and amidst the white ashes,
Red-hot coals still spit and crackle,
The flames are gone, but the heat yet remains,
A once-violent god, shackled.
The ground around is a faded grey,
Snow packed thick and cold.
Under the trees, the darkness lurks.
A feral beast, growing ever more bold.
The wind is howling, rustling, winding,
Around the trees, at times reaching in.
To stab with ice, with frost to nip,
The coals struggle, growing ever dim.
It’s up to you to feed the fire,
To bring new wood to fuel the flame,
It’s up to you to feed the fire,
To keep the darkness tamed.