Can you imagine a world without fire?
It would be a cold one, and not just in the literal sense. Consider the arts. What playwright could exist with no lantern to write by? Consider the world’s delicacies. Would they still tempt us without heat to cook
them? Consider the pleasures of the flesh. Without warmth, is there still pleasure?
A world without fire is not a world at all, instead it is a moon, dry and desolate and devoid of anything. Far up high, it is to that great round inferno we owe our continued existence. In our forges, it is those melting flames that give us the paraphernalia of this modern age. Within ourselves, we burn with passion and inspiration, leading us to the achievements that have furthered mankind so much.
In this spirit, I pledge myself. In praise of the pyres, I worship the wild flames. Their sizzles sing to me; their flickers fascinate me. Before nature’s passion incarnate, I am humbled. It was in this spirit that I submitted myself before fire as its eternal servant, and it is in this spirit that I carry it with me always, even in battle and especially in battle.
At first glance, what I bear may not seem much, just a wisp of a flame at the end of some metal like a blue firefly in the night. It is just a spark, but that is how all fires start. It is a seed, and a steady diet of propane lets it blossom as an infernal bouquet, both terrible and beautiful at the same time.
This is what I bear forward into the thick of conflict, as men argue over material borders and properties. To them, I bring flames almighty, so that they might raise their voices in supplication. To them, I bring a glorious inferno, to consume them and their things and their homes and their lives, all so that the fires may burn as hard and bright as they can before they die.

Made by Lit Fuse Films, screenshotted by Drexer
And die they will, for nothing lasts forever. Sooner or later, somehow or other, the burning ends and fire dies. However, every time a flame is snuffed, I am there to light another. They may push me back and put out my gifts, but I will never stop. Because as long as one fire burns, the sight and sound and smell of it fuels the fire in me. And as long as I burn with my own passion and desire, so too will the world around me.
I am a pyro; this is what I do.
Ryebread on September 28th 2008 in pyro, rants, team fortress 2