Passion (NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 9)

As soft as smoke, the fire came
trailing through the daffodils
It never was or will be tame
It eats, but it is never filled

How could a thing so warm and bright
Not feel the ache of longing's pain?
The only sign a thing's alive
Is when it's marked by hunger's stain

I've heard not caring's worse than hate,
Is that the reason that we tend
To rush towards danger and our fate
Form wounds so marred they cannot mend?

The fire's hunger grasps us fondly
Close and tight it holds our bones
And its aching warms us oddly
warm as ashes, cold as stone

So much effort I've exhausted
Keeping love and hope aflame
Now my dreams, discarded, lost,
Have all returned to call my name

Rouse the blaze and bring it forward:
One more offering to view
All the plans I set out toward,
Now abandoned: fire slew.

(I'm not exactly sure what this is, but it was inspired by the NaPoWriMo 2021 day 9 prompt, so... yeah)