Burning world

The fire within the lifeless space burns silently
As cold as it seems, nothing can be seen
Except a silent burning flame.
Burning so cold yet so hot,
Scorching flame burns the depths, Once touched.
You can feel the warmth of the cruel flame
Burning and charring with its blinding light,
Bruising with its pacifying motions.
Feel the bitterness of the affectionate heat
Burning you with your own ashes,
Killing you with your own water,
It's the Warmth of the cold,
And the Coldness of the warm.
Even darkness is warmer,
marching through the depths of the lonely
In a never ending loop.
It's just an endless cycle of suffering for the unaware
And a beautifully written pain for the wary.
Even it is not so precious,
unaware of the Material it's made of.
Without a clear concise, this world, my dear,
Is just an artless canvas of the artful silhouettes.