the world is burning. it is not a roaring flame yet. it just illuminates the space around it like a hot coal, waiting to burst into flames. it is suspended in air, being twirled in circles by the raging flame that is just waiting to burst into flames. it is suspended in air, being twirled in circles by the raging flame that is just waiting to consume it. the sun did not light the earth on fire. the earth is burning itself. the creatures that came from the earth, the creatures that are a part of the earth, they, they are the ones that are stoking the flame. These creatures have lost all sense of their communal connection to the plants, animals, and themselves. the humans are drinking the the only thing that can extinguish the flames that they are starting. they are burning the nature around them that keeps them alive. they have no respect for the cycle that their lives are so dependent on. they eat the animals around them to the point of extinction or grow the animals in such conditions that they are no longer animals. the world is losing all of its beauty to the pyromaniac race that has burrowed deep under the skin of the planet and is slowly killing the life around them. they intend to leave nothing except the skeleton of what they would once have called home, then they would use the skeleton for fuel, or, atleast most of them would.
there are those on the planet who are contributing to the dawning of the soon to be ablaze planet. they are the ones who run around with the matches. these people use these matches to light the fuel that takes them around, then use it to burn those who stand between them and their fuel, and once they are all burned down the ones who rise up again from the ashes to report the engulfing flames are set ablaze again before they can spread the word. they are burning with their censorship. are burning with their wars. are burning with their luxury. are burning with their money.
These creatures are the members of the Human race. the known universe's most confounding species to date. these are my ancestors. i am an evolved form of these strange creatures. i have evolved to be able to survive on this ember that remains of the planet that they once called home. me and the few others call this place Aonsaol. it is the remains of what was once the beautiful green and blue planet that they used to call earth. it went from the giant towers of green and the deserts of water to what we now see as the dull brown mesas where most of the remaining life stays, and the black underworld where very few dare to cross without the proper escort. they say that the underworld used to be just as dark as it was before except that it was filled with water so deep that the light could not reach the floor that we see today. It is as black as the sky behind the stars. it is made of a sand that is so sharp that it cuts cloth like air. it probably would have cut my ancestors to pieces as well, but i am evolved.
my ancestors burnt the world down to ashes. and i rose up with the color of the ashes as my skin and the stars are my eyes at night and the sun in the day. they reflect those that are in front of me and my goals in the distance. we have skin as hard as the stones we live in. it is as hard as iron and scaled like the armor that the ancients would have worn. we do not wear the cloth that they use to. we have much more practical uses for it now. now we wear suits made from the dried up stalks of the plants that managed to survive the great burning. these stalks are weaved tightly around each newborn, the face, feet and hands are left uncovered for breathing. the stalks expand with the growing infant and eventually more will be added as the stalks begin to unravel. we have blank faces with two eyes. we breath through our skin. our scales are able to be opened for a short amount of time and since we
