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Where the hearth is.
Where the heart is.
Love.
Warmth.
Kindness.
Security.
Comfort.
A personal temple,
a solace,
a sanctuary.


One cell.
Insidious.
Multiplying.
So slowly,
so suddenly.
Like creepers,
growing,
enveloping.
Smothering with its cloying malevolence,
shrouding with its malice.

The flames of the hearth fade,
its dying embers a pitiful vestige of its luminous past.
Reduced to a star - cold, distant, mocking with its remoteness.

The heart slackens,
its throbs of life weakening,
its soul fading.


Slowly...


petrifying...