Given to receive, a gift from on high; so says the human heart. But is a heart without a bliss, serenity is in a bottle. A Gift to some, a curse to others, mankind will never make up his mind. But to a lass, so fair and true, it's only a gift, when truly unlocked. To dance in shadows wearing make-up and silent shoes, and to walk in Her presence. Upon this rock we call our home does she now tread, like a war machine hungry for her next kill. Until at last, our misbegotten lass, finds a boy, soon yet to become a man. Who twangs her heart to his beat, and to his beat she cannot ignore. A ticking of time, and a ticking of minds, for even Love finds itself remiss. Unable to stem the tide, powerless against their torrent, they now dance madly and aflame. So what is the heart, without a Fire Inside?