With every whiff of air that winter evening,
gushes of fire ripped across the windows.
A calmness of contempt, in those red eyes,
as the white ashes blew away into the darkness.
The warmth within, morphed by the icy touches,
Stillness of fire, a disgrace to the frame.
Time was up, so was the night, a hollow morning
followed a shallow night.
You walked your path, to where you belong
An ember of life, left behind.