Scene 1:

Sometimes we lose ourselves, in envy, revenge, greed. In fire.

This orange and yellow flame (turns on lighter, a single
flame is produced) that sparks from a single strike, a single
point in a human heart, filled with desire. The desire like this
flame which consumes the heart, the mind, the soul. Burning
incessantly, building from every breath and thump of the
heart (sound of heart beating), until the entire being is
devoured by a raging fire and turned to ash.

Scene 2:

Prometheus, was a Titan and a friend amongst the most
highly regarded figures of that divine mountain they call
Olympus, privy to all power, riches, fire Fire, a divine
element, known only by a secret society. The world of
mortals cringed in fear overcome by the dark, servants to
the night. Fire promised light, hope to the human race.
Prometheus knew this and with his swift, stealthy mind he
committed himself to bringing light to man. He betrayed
Zeus with fiery wrath, and man was for the first time lit by
flame. With that woeful gift, a Pandora's box in its own
regard, came war, arson, and Prometheus' fate was sealed.
He had played with fire, and now Prometheus would get
burned. Chained on a mountain he lied, no companion by
his side, his liver ripped from his body by ravenous vultures;

succumbed to an eternity of agonizing pain, the victim of an

endless cycle, in exchange for the pleasure to burn.

A Fire Choral:

Fire
Humans
Different yet the same
Combustion
Homo Sapiens
Each contains two letter o's
Two O's
F-O-O-D
Food
We need food to grow
Grow
We live longer the more we grow
Live
To live, we need oxygen
Oxygen
Made up of two simple atoms
Two
Friction is caused by two
Socially
Physically
Friction causes conflict
Friction causes heat
The results for both
Fire



The Redwoods:

There were these trees near my home town in Stockton,
Northern California. They call 'em Coastal Redwoods. They
are these massive, vast, and beautiful trees; but they aren't
like other trees.You see, these trees have adapted to fire
and germinate after the entire forest has been burned, they
use the minerals from the leftover parts of disintegrated
wood to grow. When the air at home smelt like smoke and
cheap wine, when my father would yell and my mother
would scream, and I could feel my father's leather belts
against my skin, I would think of that RedWood Forrest and
its perfect serenity. The trees who stood tall in the face of a
storm. When I ran, I didn't know where I was running, I ran
and ran and ran until I reached the foot of a tall, thick
sequoia. I spent my first nights alone there, at the foot of a
Redwood tree.

Murder Part 1:

Fire is pure. I love to watch it burn; I love to watch
everything burn. With the ignition of a new flame, a fiendish
smile sweeps across my face. It heals me, the fire. There is
something about watching the smoke, the bright orange
glow rising that heals my broken and lonely soul. It purges
me, it restores me, it erases my wounds. When I'm burning I
feel no hurt, no pain, I feel nothing. And that nothingness, it

is the best feeling in the world.

Murder Part 2:

"Got a light."

There was fire in her eyes, her hair, between us.

"No...... No."

She turned.

"Your heart. It's... It's on fire."

She melted into my arms. It was love. It was desire. It was a
great big wildfire that consumed my ghostly heart. But the
thing about flames is that eventually they die, they become
ash. And all that remains is smoke, smoldering matter, a
painful reminder of something that was once titanic, vast,
and immense, but now is obliterated into nothingness.

"Stay with me."
"I have to go."
"Never leave my side. Promise me you'll protect me, never
let me go. If you did, I would be nothing. My heart would be
pulverized, it would be a lonely pile of soot."
"I'll be back. I will always come home."

She liked to write. She was always going to places that had
been left behind, there was something about emptiness that
was so enthralling to her. Maybe that's why she was so
fascinated by me. She could see the immense gap in my soul
left behind from the hurt, from being abandoned. She
decided to go to an old house on the side of a creek that
morning hoping to find some inspiration, a setting where
mind could be clear. A place where she could be alone with
her thoughts. I was in the mood for flames. I just needed to
burn one last time, then I could trust, I could stay with her
forever. I could purge myself from that secret addiction that
feasted on my own heart. I didn't know. I torched it. As she
let out a final scream, it was too late. The roof had already
caved in, she was gone, forever. I had broken my promise
and it had killed her. I was guilty. (Raises knife, lights out)

A Blue Flame:
(In rehabilitation center)

Does anyone here know what the brightest, hottest, and
most volatile part of a fire is? What color is it? Any guesses?
It's blue. Not orange, not red, not yellow, it's blue. And that
is what I am. I am blue. Blue with sadness, blue with
loneliness. I am blue, ready to snap and break into a million
pieces at any moment. I wear blue, I sleep in blue, I dream in
blue, and I cry in blue. Everything is blue.

Scene 6: The Phoenix

All this time I thought that fire was a way of purging, of

forgetting. A way of removing the ugly parts of yourself.
While fire is a magnificent cleanser, it still leaves something
behind. You can't get rid of the ash, it's physics. Matter is
neither created nor destroyed, Conservation of Mass.
Antoine Lavoisier.You can burn a piece of paper and you're
left with ashes, you can burn those ashes, and the ashes of
those ashes, and the ashes of the ashes of the ashes, and
you still end up with more ashes. And those ashes are the
same paper that you burned in the first place, it is always
there. I wanted to forget, I wanted to feel nothing, I wanted
to float away, but the truth is you can't.You can move far
away from the person you once were, but somewhere deep
down in the center of your core that person is always there
despite how many times you burn. But fire, it has this
immense power.You can reinvent yourself, you can rise from
the ashes like the Phoenix. You can become a better
version of yourself. So we burn, and we burn, and burn,
burn, burn, but we always rise.