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- Extinguished fire, now cold and dark, that blazed once bright and sure,
- That warmed my self, my heart, my soul and made my spirit pure,
- I watched you die as rain poured down and choked your fighting flames.
- I frantically worked day and night to save you; ’twas in vain.
- I tried to feed you splintered wood from off my broken shelf,
- But you returned just smoke to me—no heat, no light, no health.
- I sat there staring at the ash for days and weeks and months,
- Waiting, hoping, wishing, too, that flames to me would come.
- But nothing came. ’Twas all in vain. My efforts fruitless now.
- I needed faith, and courage, too, to stand and leave somehow.
- And so I planted feet down firm, clung to the frigid hearth,
- Stood up, breathed deep, hung down my head, and stepped with heavy heart.
- But then, just then, something had gleamed deep in the snowy ash:
- An ember, lone and minuscule, beckoned to me, “Come back”.
- A spark exists! A hope of flame, something there inside,
- But still no fuel, and rain still falls. All I can do is sigh.