Conflagration

"So the fire burns in you I see. It's everywhere you know, fire that is. Mundis Ex Igne Factus Est. Latin, a beautiful language, it finds itself among the elite or dead. I envy those Latinites who once roamed here, calling the language their own. They have a way of encompassing what should be said into a wonderful set of syllables. Oh yes, I should probably expand on what I said before, shouldn't I? Mundis Ex Igne Factus Est. The world is made of fire. It is not only the symbol of struggle, but survival. It represents strength, it divides, it conquers, it pleases, it consumes, it destroys, it births, but most of all, it forges. It tempers the body and soul of what it touches, turning raw materials into tools, making what was useless, purposeful. If steel could feel, if it had sentiments as to what it goes through, I imagine its coherency would dissolve in a sea of agony but, eventually, it would regain composure and feel renewed, as if its life developed meaning, and it owes everything to the flame."