Life Burns
There are three types of people in this world, and all can be related to fire.
First, there is the candle light, the one that burns slowly, constantly, never making much or taking much. They live the longest, but often wonder if they lived the emptiest.
Then, there are the wildfires. Their souls blaze too fast, too bright for this world, and though extinguished before their time, their brief moment of blinding light leaves an everlasting image under the eyelids of the world long after they are gone, their heat forever marked by the path they sear into the memory of time.
And last, there are the embers. Those that had the chance to be either, but fate snuffed them out, reducing their warmth to a chilly flicker in the dark. They douse their spark of youth in the sands of hatred and misery, and commit themselves to a lifetime in the gloom. When the waters of life's end come to hiss away the last of their disparaging glow, they welcome it.
The question isn't so much "which am I?", but "What will I become?"