A fiercely gentle flame,
Not to scold but to hold,
Not to burn but to warm –
An old flame,
One that weathered the storm,
Ashes just beginning to appear
Somewhere among the embers,
Made up of things remembered,
Settling among stories, tributes and blame,
Did you ever hear the quiet roar of a single flame?
Did you ever think it such a shame,
That you didn’t get to hear it more often?
That the quiet roar could probably soften
Even the harshest blow,
As you thawed yourself in its auburn glow,
And added some kindling from your flammable soul,
Ignite the heart and let it roam
As it should be.
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