Blowing the Embers

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This is a poem of a metaphoric dance, of life and death. Of regrets, longing and forgiveness. And also of closure and eternal love.

Dying flames by the hearth, they've known the secrets in my heart. The warmth I feel as I fall asleep, only my ashes are left to weep. A storm from winter I invite, my flames glowing brighter into the night. I wont forget what I sought, when the winter's cold was so flaming hot. I held my breath in anticipation, the moment met with great expectations. Soon the flames all got smothered, I was burned like no other. But I dare you all to not remember, the very first spark in late december. Though I'm not young I feel the same, The embers in my hand will forever remain.

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