Should I pinch
my now small flame and die?
Is death really the only way?
Should I extinguish what I have left?
Why do memories flow from my flame
and dry to a still, only to linger on?
Is my flame being blown out by winds of something I don’t understand?
And what don’t I understand?
That my own breath kills my flame?
I know I will vanish into the earth someday – vanish! Like flying dust!
The flame of my soul was once bright,
now it is merely a glow.
Powerfully penned, Daniel. An incredible write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian