I am glowing.
I would turn earth to ash for you.
I am burning.
And when you whisper in my ear,
I am roaring orange,
crackling and cackling
and whirring and stirring
and boiling incandescent.

But then you go.

Suddenly, I am smouldering.

I am
fading.

I
am
embers.


Penned by my hand on the 24th of Chronos, in the year 1000 AF.