The Dreams Return

I am nothing but what I am. I am a blank slate with words writ upon it in fire. I cannot read them, I have never known what they say. I have never seen them before. They are not there. There is something I cannot remember, but that is because I never knew it.

And yet, the memory remains.

The dreams have begun again. I woke uncertain of where I was, even for a brief instant who I was. Is this the fire? Will it forge me? Will I be reduced to ashes as I have in so many dreams? I have nothing but questions... my new life gives me nothing and takes so much. What shape will the Fire cast me in?



...What am I?