double faced fire

One face snarls from the brim, a mask of vigilance, eyes sharpened in the furnace light. The other, weary, carries the ash of years, a downward gaze that has seen too much burning.

Behind them, a curtain of flame licks the edges of being, devouring shadows, screaming rebirth.

Which self survives? The watcher, ever alert? The bearer, heavy with silence? Or the third, the unseen, who binds the halves together, smoldering in the marrow?

A hat that holds two lives, a fire that asks one question:

Do you burn to endure, or endure to burn?