Prometheus dares to steal fire from the hearth of the gods and despite the punishment he must endure, defiantly offers humankind this element that will change them forever. Humans discover technology and give birth to civilization. However, throughout their tumultuous history arises an ambivalence towards the tool they have mastered. Perhaps because of the many compromises brought about by their technological ascent or to redeem the theft that bequeathed them the prodigious flame, they seek to drive fire back to its original hearth. As age after age a light will start a fire, they speak of a fire that does not burn, whose value is all purity and whose property is the supreme essence of that crude igneous matter. Pure light is the refined spirit of fire and whether they venerate it as divine or harness it to produce more powerful machines, the idealized substance fashions the world they see and the language they speak. Misguided yearning alas, for in their ever recurring conflicts and wars, the aspired for ideal reverts back to the primitive fire they struggle to transcend. You might say that fire returns to its original hearth as fire. Perhaps their self-destructive acts are but the small rehearsals of a cosmic occurrence, an event to end all events. The sun, mother of all life on earth, will eventually explode. Body like spirit shall perish and Prometheus, melding with fire, will surrender to the womb of a nameless and godless night.