Walk through the Hearth
As you would ice,
And from the cold flames
Your new self will rise.

Behead your past,
Be off with its head.
After the Flames have cleansed you,
You will freeze your dread.

Succumb to the Cold,
Invite the warmth of the Fireplace
For your sins have been frozen,
But your pitiful self remains.

– Maya Desdemona