Rousing and dousing the spark

Fire rages deep within the soul of every being capable of kindling thoughts, striking bits and shards of concepts and persistent enough to keep on striking until a fire is ignited inside. That persistence could at times be a madness, a sort of insanity that grates inside the head like an irritating frictional echo ringing in the eardrums, or it could be the determination to make something out of those passing insights and interrogations in the head.  In the former, the fire is an accident born of a madness, in the latter it is an illuminating glow burning to seamlessly merge the striking bits. And thus rages a fire in everyone; some, furiously red as to drive the soul into a sleepless, tiresome struggle to hammer out something impressive and exotic in their self-kindled anvil; some, a soft glow, just enough to show them what they stand for. Some say, and mostly out of experience hold it that such flames can be doused easier than it was made, like the tiny flame of a lamp, or the suicidal flame of a candle they can be put out with a pat or an unflinching pinch at the wick. But, this applies for those restricted fires that burn on a wick. They are lighted by someone else and die out eventually for lack of fuel or material. But to douse those untamed, hungry and careless fires that rage independent of time, space and matter, spitting, spewing ashes of all that it has ravenously feasted upon is a serious struggle, and not a one-man job. Their origin is untraceable and nothing can stand a chance in front of such kind of raging passion, skill, ideology and flair. It is to be that raging fire that we should nurture our little flames of inspiration and potential into; an unbridled invincible fire. Not to the ones which can be doused by a passing comment or a jealous nip.