Old spirit without a name
Yet she is known by all
It lurks in the fire and flame
Shining blue and cold

Looking at the poet writing
Watching the sleep of a child
Always prepared to strike
Like a blade in the back

Shape-shifter she is
A were-flame flickering
In terror she bathes
With razor-wings and claws

Though she comes with harm
In lents to rip your heart
She fears the loneliness
And yearns for the warmth

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