I'm the personification of fire. I burn with greed, anger and lust. I'm mad as a flame, dancing around, looking for the combustible that makes me soar. I consume it, let it die to feed me. I ravel in it's dying shrieks, for I know them only as my fuel. "And he saw the destruction it caused, and he saw that it was good." Not exactly good, but good enough for me, anyways. I have no intent to create anything but ashes, yet those ashes are the seeds of new lifes. I don't care, and promptly consume whatever I can get to next. Because, for all my power, for all my desire, for all my yearning, I still depend. I still depend on something available to be destroyed, something willing to be consumed. Else, in the saddest of the dances, I shrink, and wither, and die. Then, the only thing left will be the ashes.
That, and the wisp of smoke.
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