Appeal

4 0 00

Appeal

You who are so mighty,

crimson salamander,

hear me once more.

I lay among the half burned sticks

at the edge of the fire.

The fiend was creeping in.

I felt the cold tips of fingers⁠—

O crimson salamander!

Give me one little flame,

one!

that I may bind it

protectingly about the wrist

of him that flung me here,

here upon the very center!

This is my song.