Fire on the Mountain

^nycterent hosted a most lovely gift giving game! My secret deviant was =Lilith-Elina! I took a piece out of her gallery and did a bit of found poetry. It was great fun, and I hope she likes it!

Her original piece can be found here: FlamesThe adjective that fit the room best was "bare":  The cold stone walls were bare any paintings or windows, only light and shadows played on their moist surface.  The room itself was bare any furniture; there was nothing to give comfort to a living being.  The room was bare of living beings, too.   Only the centre of the room was occupied: there stood a tin basin, balanced on a slender pole. The basin itself was filled with fire; flames in all hues from yellow to red were dancing within it. There was no blue core, the fire wasn't hot enough for that, and there was no smoke either.  It was impossible to make out an

Here's the text of the poem:

bare cold stone light with fire.
flames smoke, feeding weaker whispered goodbyes.
tumbling closer an avalanche sighed with wonder.