Ashes
The fire inside me has burned out
There’s nothing left but a smouldering pile of ashes
Barely enough heat to spark even an interest in life
Funny that, now I’m finally free to live it
The fuel, my hatred, is all but exhausted
You died: the source. No more passion: it’s buried
Relief brings tears. Neither of joy nor grief
Emptiness flows through my dying soul
No pain. No feeling.
Only our ashes remain
With no phoenix to rise from them
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