The Embers

A fire grown cold, no longer providing warmth. Only ashes and flickering embers left behind, struggling to hold on to something no longer burning. Still I search.

I shiver in the ebony blackness, endlessly searching for something to reignite the burning fire. But it’s gone, death took it, snuffed out by the icy wind. Still I search.

Soon the snow will begin to fall and I will have nothing to keep me warm. Only memories of that all engulfing fire. But what good are memories of a fire to keep one warm? Still I search.

But you’re gone. All too soon. Leaving me shrouded in the icy ebony night. Still I search.

Photo by Gleb Lukomets on Unsplash