The shape of the fire appeared foreign to me. It was outspread at the bottom then eventually became narrower as the flame stretched upwards. As I stared at the fire, its shape began to mould into something that appeared familiar; something ‘tongue-like’. I was fascinated by how well the shape blended with the colour of the flame, like some type of sculpture designed by a professional artist; even a person with such specialty could never be able to model such a structure. At that point, it was troublesome for me, or anyone else, to believe that such a picturesque scene was just a reaction that could be described using a chemical formula.
Fire then spoke to me, told me the truth of it all. Fire wants to live, not just survive. A fire that keeps burning constantly without increasing in size is like a rose losing all its red. After all the colour drains away, it shall still be called a rose, yet, it has lost the qualities that compose it into one.The sight of the fire was irresistible to my eyes; I was addicted to it as it grew in size, devouring everything it encountered on its way. However, time flew by, and after a while, the pain inflicted upon watching the flames became something I could no longer bear. I fought against my feet and, after some valuable effort I managed to stand up, but standing up just pulled me down. It was like gravity decided to work twice as hard as it usually does. I tried to get rid of the pain left by making count of the floating sheep in the sky. It was as worthless as a gun without a trigger. I then made note of the last fact for today, pain does not go away, you just get used to it; time does not heal, it just cleans the wound.
Can someone please check my descriptive paragraph?
|Why bother with a post grad? Are they even worth it? Have your say!||26-10-2016|