I'm a blazing bonfire,
beautiful and bold.
I am myself.
Then the cold comes,
the cold-hearted insults.
Now I'm a campfire.
warm and comforting.
I am less of myself.
Then the wind comes,
the whispers of hurt.
Now I'm a torch,
light and easy.
I am half of myself.
Then the rain comes.
Tiny droplets of hate.
Now I'm a flame,
barely existing and feeble.
I am hardly myself.
Then the people come,
and destroy me completely.
Now I am nothing.
