Fire

Why do you dance to and fro like that?
Why do you look so alive?
Gather some wood and strike a match.
And suddenly, you grow and thrive.

Too much wood, and you grow out of control.
Too little, and you die.
You always take and take and take.
And you never stop to ask why.

Fire is a thing of eternal beauty.
But fire can also be deadly.
Fire can, indeed, be controlled.
If you can dance with its sparkling medley.