In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Burning Down the House.”
Ashes.
Ashes are all that is left.
As I stand in the ruins of us,
I remember the flames,
slow and warm at times,
white hot and scorching at times.
Always all-consuming.
The ashes are cold and empty and numb.
So even after all the devastation,
I long for the sweet pain of the flames.
Lovely poem. Wonderful juxtaposition of flames and ashes. Especially at this time of year. I love looking at the flames in my fireplace for inspiration, warmth, and comfort after a long day…
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Thank you 🙂 I love sitting near and watching the flames as well. It is a great way to unwind and open my mind.
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