Fire
Do you ever just see passion fizzling away? Isn’t it just the saddest thing to watch? Like watching a flame slowly run its course and then vanish without a trace except for its charred remains. What once burned hot, now runs cold with no sign of existence, except for its withered roots. Then it doesn’t matter that the flame was once bright. It doesn’t matter that the flame once engulfed everything. What’s to show for it? Who can tell? Flames have no shape or form. They are but a sensation of overpowering heat. That which burns could be a flame from a candle or a forest- and it could burn just the same. The flame could be destructive and alight a tree, a house. It could be a light guiding life. But the flame will burn out. And what then? What happens when it fizzles out? Did we use the flame to light up our homes, or did we let it flame out and then wonder where it all went away?
