A Dying Fire

Graphic by Irfan Khan

Crackle, crackle

The fire is nearly put out;

The bottles have been discarded,

Those which once could drown out all the shouts.

You watch the fire slowly dim,

As you let the quietude creep in.

You watch the yellows and reds,

Bitterly remind you of your sins.

Your body still shakes,

From last night’s affair.

You pull your knees closer to you,

And look outside the window with a blank stare.

You can’t bring yourself to cry,

It just wouldn’t seem fit

To let yourself mourn

While the fire is still lit.

The faint sunlight streams through the cracks,

The toxic smoke begins to wane.

You can feel yourself regain what once was lost,

But with it slithers in the pain.

The birds begin to chirp,

Soft and pure and clean.

The sky is purple-pink,

You cannot move your eyes from the scene.

You suddenly feel lighter,

With every tweet the songbirds sing,

You find the courage to stand up,

While daylight proclaims its awakening.

Crackle, crackle

And the fire is out.

But my darling you are stronger for it,

And brave enough to face your doubts.

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