The fire burns high and hot for all to see.
The fire heats melts, for the lover now seen.
The fire brightens, lightens for hearts are keen.
The fire broadens, consumes for heady romance foreseen.
The fire dwindles, ebbs and cools off.
It leaves in its wake, cold ashes of bitter memories, angry demeanor, and a wounded heart.
When did the fire start diminishing?
When did the passion turn to poison?
When did the heart’s dreaming turn to dreading?
When did the warm embrace so longed for turn into strangling?
Ignite the fire.
Fan the embers.
Please kindle the fire again, for these cold ashes are killing me!