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