In his hand, he held a light.
It was of no use to him on this smokey, fiery night.
His other hand swept the floor with urgency and skill,
"Seeing" his way by experience and touch.
Working his way in with nothing to hold onto but his dedication and will.
Blocking out the pops and cracks and the fire's roar.
Never once thinking, that, for someone in here,
The smoke and heat could be too much?
Searching for the little sounds, the cough, the cry,
Or even some rustling on the floor.
The acrid smoke grew stronger, as the flames grew longer.
The searing heat pushing him lower.
As the fire worked to quell it's appetite.
With his bell now ringing, and all his senses screaming,.
"Get out Now, before it's too late!"
But the thought of losing an innocent one, pushes him forward,
Determined not to let them go to this horrible fate.
On his final sweep before leaving,
His hand came to rest on something soft and breathing.
Knowing at once that this is what he had come for.
He picked the babe up into his arms, to keep him safe from the harm,
That was now, singing his neck.
The useless light would be of use at last;
As he threw it at the window, breaking the glass.,
Knowing his brothers would see it,
And the child would be passed,
From Hell to safety,
Ring It's Last.