Tedious Flames

I used to be a zippo with a wondrous flame, mesmerizing many men mending my path to fame. But with every flip and every trick my liquid flame trickled slowly away. Hinges would break with every shake, day and day after day. Now my own precious fluid is nearly depleted. Feeling less and less lucid, more and more often I'm seated. My hinges have broken, leaving so many words unspoken, for the will to speak them is gone. Now I remember that upon my birth was given to me, a lifetime warranty. I can replace my current disgrace with elegant grace, but that would not be me. I gaze at the stars into the dead trenches of mars, where life used to be. And I see the beauty in death. I look at my scars and relive their stories. I laugh at my reactions to the pain I thought was so intense, until I felt the next, laughing that I was far from slain. For even though I'm broken and my fluid is gone, the memory of my flame shall burn on and on.