Wind blows out the candle but fans a fire.
I like fire. People around the air blows out and breaks.
But I live with the air that warms me which gives me spiritual food. In my red-hot lava, the volcano of passion that ceases more and more by the wind.
The fire flare up when the air is fed. So I break out with the help of air. Always the air ..
Flying my heart when air is close. Do not quench my senses water… And how to live when the air is so little, when it is not available?
And I understand that the more air the more I burn, and the is harder extinguished.