As the unconscious stirs itself, opening the many channels to seek itself out in conscious, a whirlwind gets created in the process. It creates a havoc ravaging the steady trees, the used to be living life, the routines get uprooted, and amidst the tornado, the anger seethes into the self and other's being. The open pours of the unconscious get burnt by this acid called anger!
How does the fire extinguishes itself, for if left alone, it will burn till it lasts. Someone throw water on her, gallons maybe needed. The fire is hot, can burn you up easily, might even eat.
And if you ask the cause of this fire, there are many. Perhaps then, its best to leave the fire by itself; when no being wishes to come near it, it' ll soon learn that hotness is not the only thing to be, for being involves living with others, listening to them; knowing, that she is not the ONLY one to live.
This fire is lonely. Has a lot in her. Some do understand her, for it was through them that she emerged. others, well can't say much about her. She has never spread herself too much to let others know about her. A quiet seething fire. That's her!
The giver of that fire said "You may not have anyone besides you, for the hotness you carry can burn anyone into ashes". That moment, she quietened down, knowing the words she heard were bitter truth of her life.
This beauty of fire was enrapturing. She could enamour anyone. Her charm, poise, love, warmth all exuded her vitality. She was a loyal one, giving, caring, helping. For those whose life felt like cold barren desert, she brought that life, for her flame was enough to rekindle their lost spirit.
But, in the path of life, she was amidst a crowd, yet lonely. Where was her being? Who had she become? Never ever had she been so hot. The rage, the fury began to eat her up now. It was irksome. She had often thought of giving up on life. Death perhaps could be more peaceful; knowing that she was no more a pain to others brought with it an assurance that their lives would be more smooth. But then in this world of elements, she was not the only one. Like in the people world, here too existed relationships, just the forms varied. She had spent years trying to be patient, but to no avail. The world was changing and no one was ready to accept her for her hotness, no matter she was 'a fire'.
All fires are not hot, filled with rage and fury. This one was at unrest. Talking perhaps was no substitute, could be, but she unaware. There are matters in life in which we are our own saviours. Same went for her. She had began to hate herself for the fire she had become. All the elements had values. Her's were getting eroded and worn off. It was time to help. Her 'self' weeped and cried for the knowing hurt she had caused to others. The burns invisible, yet there. She saw them.