Flaming embers burning hot
Nothing like fire to hit the spot
Books, Ink, The Power of the Pen
It all will turn to ash in the end
Red, Hot and Glowing Bright
My only visible light during the night
Burning embers in my fingers sting
At times I felt like burnt chicken wings
Eventually my final match burns out
But that too is burnt out by a passing trout
Now i'm alone without my flare
So tommorow i'll start again elsewhere
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