The air was thin, the sky dark. My heart was empty and my eyelids were heavy. I looked out into the never-ending abyss beyond the horizon and took a deep breath. I could feel the dry earth weaving its way in between my toes as it gave way from underneath me. The desiccated wind had picked up, stealing the breath off my lips, filling my lungs with blistering heat. My knees grew weak, my fragile bones slowly fracturing into extinction. The strength I had so desperately clung to was impoverished. I was deteriorating. I was lost. I was broken. I was dying.
But, in that very dissipating moment, the horizon began to burn; filling the sky with a multitude of color. My desperation for life had now become a thriving hunger. The blood in my veins pulsed with every impending second and the ground beneath me had renewed itself, no longer malnourished. My heart was strong. My heart was ready. After a few moments, I stood up and threw my head up to the sky in awe. I stood there, watching it burn. And it burned on through the night like a raging fire.