Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim
In the depths of the night, a flame burned brightly. It danced across observant eyes etching its beauty into timid retinas. Eyelids, the first line of defense, stood open and indulged the sight. There, in the stillness of the night, the fire only caressed the night's gentle breeze. Hidden was any threat of harm, chaos, or confusion.
The night has long since passed, and now under the luminence of the sun the casualties are clear. Logs and sticks that were once part of living trees are now charred remains, mere ashes, serving as the only evidence of the night's performance. Was it worth it? It is difficult to say. If life was shortened by the moment, then it likely wasn't. But if the fire's fuel was indeed true firewood, then the glamour only manifested its fate. There is a cycle, and every stage within it needs its due.
But when the cycle ceases to exist, must its memory be preserved?
In the depths of the night, a flame burned brightly. It danced across observant eyes etching its beauty into timid retinas. Eyelids, the first line of defense, stood open and indulged the sight. There, in the stillness of the night, the fire only caressed the night's gentle breeze. Hidden was any threat of harm, chaos, or confusion.
The night has long since passed, and now under the luminence of the sun the casualties are clear. Logs and sticks that were once part of living trees are now charred remains, mere ashes, serving as the only evidence of the night's performance. Was it worth it? It is difficult to say. If life was shortened by the moment, then it likely wasn't. But if the fire's fuel was indeed true firewood, then the glamour only manifested its fate. There is a cycle, and every stage within it needs its due.
But when the cycle ceases to exist, must its memory be preserved?
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