pilot
My soul is a furnace,
loudly roaring to life
to deliver blasts of heat.
My soul is an oven,
internalized convection
to prepare food to feed.
My soul heats the water,
boiling bubbling rage
to keep everything clean.
My soul is a raging inferno,
blazing bright across the sky.
But I cannot ignite the pilot light
and I fear the flame has died.
