Once the fire inside me would burn like the California Sierra. With the belief that I was invincible, I could stop bullets.
Suddenly, life snuffed it out! The raging furnace had been reduced to the flickering flame of a small candle; with the wind blowing.
Then silently, alone, in the wee hours of the night, the flame went out.
Like a genie on a flying carpet, Grace flew in on a gentle breeze.
Enough breath to resurrect the flame inside.
Now fire trucks are powerless.
I'm on Fire.
Remember...“Even a half lit, stained cigarette butt can burn down a forest.”
KEEP BURNING.
__J.B.G
