The fireplace is empty. I stare into it anyway, no reason why. The heat is gone. I become cold so I place logs. There is still no heat, no warmth. I ignite a flame. The fireplace has a fire. Its warm. I'm in comfort. But I look into the fire with despair although its lit. I do this only because I know that as I sleep though the night, the fire will die. The flames are at there peak as I stare. I sit and watch. The fire is dying. Yet I am still watching it into the night. The crackling of the fire reminds me of my shattering heart. With this thought yet I still gaze into the fireplace which no longer is full of flames. It is only giving a faint glow. My heart starts pounding at the sight of the dying fire. As I feel the tears pour down my face, the glow of the fireplace is no more. All I'm left with is dust, left from the flame that roared and faded right before my eyes.
