The Fire Is Gone

Where a fire once burned nothing is left but spiraling smoke and charred memories fading with the waning of the frighten heat chasing after the thinning smoke. The singed lips of my heart---blistered with the watered pain of lost love feverously struggle to utter the asinine question: Why? Knowing very well the fool’s answer: If you play with fire, you’ll get burned! Shivering from the dept I have sunken--- diving into the black hole of mind, I search the darkness of vanity to forgive myself for failing to gather the kindling.