A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS// THE THING OF OLD

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What I see
A man breathing out fire from his mouth.

What I feel
I feel amazed at his ability.

My prompt

The sun had began to take it's final descent in the sky
The man dropped his unfinished beer knowing it was time.
The orange hue that had lingered in the sunset
Had almost vanished, showing the sun's rest.
His ancestors before him had done this ritual
Their blood and instinct had been their manual.
He needed not to think with his head but to feel with his heart
Fire was a dangerous thing that could tear you apart.
He chanted the ancient words of power and might
Ancient words that could destroy many in a fight.
A sudden heat began grow within his soul
He knew not to quench it, this was a rule untold.
Suddenly like a great and mighty roar
The fire erupted, ready to devour.
But today's ritual wasn't to fight or kill
It was to burn and cleanse all for their sin.