Jeremy Davis Poet Elegy

Brief, Bright Furnace

The brightest flame is most doomed.  
It arrives like clean gravity, sudden.  
A flare in the hollow chest,  
clockwork chewing the wick of hours.  

It makes ruin look like scripture.  
It gilds dust, names it heaven.  
It teaches the dark to blink,  
then laughs porcelain teeth, shattered.  

We gather, rugged witnesses, alone,  
palms open under ember rain.  
We swear it will not vanish.  
We speak vows into static walls.  

But fire is a feral engine.  
It eats its own oxygen, tenderly.  
Marvel bleeds; the self is prison.  
Release comes bright, then brutal.  

O brief seraph of heat,  
you governed our pulse with light.  
You made the void feel mortal.  
You made our names ring, once.  

Now ash repeats your outline.  
Stillness spins, merciless, patient.  
Nothing stops. Nothing starts.  
Only a glow, remembering collapse.  

Let this elegy hold your flare:  
a scream folded inside brightness.  
Trust grew fanged, loyalty grew wings.  
Then soot, soft mercy closed your mouth.

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