Man, Machine, Mortality

Epitaph

I remember you not as you lived, but as you died.  You died with the grace and composure of one who has rehearsed their own end a thousand times.  Seeing the light turn to darkness ignited my inner flame; rather than grieve I felt a change.  I perceived a difference within myself, a rekindling.  Your role in life was not to feed your own fire, but to help others rediscover theirs.  You helped me burn brighter.  You gave me your remaining oxygen in order to ensure that my life could be prolonged.  For that, I say thank you.  Thank you for taking on the form of a match--giving birth to a crimson rose, knowing that in the process your essence would be consumed.