Furnace

Of Steaks and Stakes

A passion burning like a furnace. Eyes blazing with fire. Eyes centered upon a cheese. Even the most hushed squeak triggers the birth of crimsons. Avarice did not fuel the furnace. Gambling ideas despite the speculative hypotheses was like the white plague. Gambling brought the bacon home. Gambling brings the bacon home. Enraptured by capricious verdicts, the eyes are bound to witness how the furnace would forge the swords of Damocles. The malodour coursing through the heart of the sinful product draws the attention of the fervent eyes. Fortune fueled the furnace. Derisory would be the ideal word if the furnace was dowsed with potency of misadventure. Without justification, the cheese tardily was sorcerised into the genesis of nirvana. Melted by the furnace, the blue-eyed leviathan was altogether consumed and gradually envenomed the fallible body. What has become of it was obscured by the coal catered by the foreign virus. The furnace lit brighter allowing warmth to embrace the body through winters. Gambling, once again, brought bacon home.