a young adolf

A young boy sits in front of the fire. He stares into it mesmerized by the dancing of the flames. This is power he thinks to himself. The ability to consume and destroy your enemy, the ability to overcome what is set in your path. Flame conquers.
He watches as the dry logs snap and slowly change from solid into ash, dropping away bit by bit. But he is not satisfied by the slow demise, and the steady glow of flame. He picks up a metal rod and prods the log, knocking away the old ash to reveal new wood, new meat for the fire. And the fire responds by leaping to the new patch of wood, burning for a few minutes brighter and higher than before. The boy is delighted, but soon disappointed that the fire slows again. Again he prods, and the fire soars, fades, prods, soars.
He is lost somewhere in the flame, absorbed. To increase the power of the flame he must give it the sacrifice to feed on. On and on he continues, until his mother calls him away to bed.
When he walks away, he does not notice, that by burning the log faster, the fire has run out of things to feed on, it dwindles, and nearly dies, before his father comes to add another log.