A flame once burned so brightly everything in sight
seemed quite beautiful in its blinding light.
Everything I took for truth once upon a time
seemed to me more glorious; love seemed more sublime.
Then the fire began to die. Every little flaw
I began to clearly see till I’d seen it all.
Half a lifetime and the flame still is burning out.
As it dims, I am learning what life is about.
But the happy medium I had come upon
soon will flicker less and less. Going….. Going…. Gone.
When my flame goes nearly out, will there come a pall?
In the darkness that will come - will I see at all?
Oh, for precious days of yore - passion of my youth -
when a flame once burned, and I thought I knew of truth.
Trying this in Skat's "any poem under 15 lines" Poetry Contest