It was...a spark that never caught the last scrap of material
It was a flame never to ignite with rage or even a healthy passion
It was never to burn an incense that smelled of lilies
It was only shattered and doused by bitter, sad, frustrated tears
It was to flow down the road to be joined by ash and ancient remains
It was meant to sit and decay with all that lies beneath
It was there to grow, to renew, and reform itself
It was a new thought, a new inspiration, maybe..hope
It was tall it was brave, stepping into the world a marvel
It was something unique and absolutely unanticipated
It was deceived and cut down like a tree in a forest
It was about to fall to the ground when it was picked up
It was a stranger in the woods who was lonely and lost
It was then that he took a match and set it aflame
It was the warmth and comfort of chance perhaps fate...
It was useful it was happy, content with being ashy like the beginning
It was doing it's job after all, serving a purpose
It was then the stranger who cried and drops to flicker fire
It was gone with the damp blink of eyes shedding relief
It was but few the few sparks that gave only bugs warmth
It was then that it vanished forever but useful, never to be seen again
And its memory will cease to the stranger who lives on, who has nothing but what has yet to come, more life, more purpose ahead....
