The flames are sinking low
No longer do they glow
So brightly against the sky
Or fiercely within her eye
As that fire becomes subdued
All that she is she must conclude
Has faded more than she thought
Now she finds herself distraught
No way to feed this fire
As it falls from the pyre
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jadedheart
December 2nd, 2011 at 6:20 PM
I love it 🙂 another beautiful poem 🙂
December 2nd, 2011 at 6:55 PM
Thank you very much! 🙂
December 2nd, 2011 at 6:25 PM
The sun has been burning for millions of years, yet it still finds the heat to feed us. Inside of us there is a fire, smouldering perhaps, but it will never go out, it just needs a spark and you’ll be dancing off the shoulders of orion 🙂
Great poem, jadedheart
December 2nd, 2011 at 7:00 PM
A beautiful response! Thank you Martin! 🙂
December 3rd, 2011 at 11:18 AM
Ah, I do know this thought. It is something to wake and find that all the beauty within your mind has run and hid beneath the dark of brutal life and broken hearts. Thank you for sharing
December 3rd, 2011 at 11:53 AM
Thank you so much 🙂
December 3rd, 2011 at 12:07 PM
How touchingly this reminds me of the practices in some cultures of burning their loved ones on a pyre. These lines both evoke fleshly losses and spiritual losses, both the dying of physical fires (in the absence of further “fuel”!) and the dying of emotional/creative/spiritual fires.
December 3rd, 2011 at 1:26 PM
Wonderfully put, thank you!