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Lonely Survivor
As the lonely survivor built his fire,
The chill of the wind froze his soul.
Lighting the kindling, his thoughts were dire,
Waiting for the embers to begin to grow.
He had to get it to ignite this time,
Trembling hands held the last match.
It was warmth he just had to find,
As he prayed that the fire would catch.
The match head flame danced proudly out,
Then dimmed in cold as if in fear,
Brightly glowing once more to shout,
"These logs I will light, to hold you near!"
The kindling reddened, small flames adance,
Starting slowly and growing more.
Till the fire was brilliant and warmth advanced,
The survivor began to have feeling, as before.
Exhaustion finally overcame, he closed his eyes,
As he laid next to the fire, filled with dreams.
And as he slept he remembered ties,
And how life is never quite as it seems.
The flames grew shorter as the wood did burn,
What once was hot was now only warm.
Heat to cold ashes began to turn,
As he slowly returned to harm.
Where was his angel to wake him again?
Another log must be placed on the fire.
Where does it start, why does it end,
The warmth so needed, obscured in mire.
Cold ashes left no spark to find,
The survivor awoke, cold once more.
Knowing it was only a matter of time,
Till the ice would cover the clothing he wore.
Like the survivor, I loved only you,
Taking the warmth you gave to me.
I was so sure your love was true,
That you leaving I could not see.
Our flames danced slowly as they grew,
To something warm, you gave so much.
I felt love again, inside I knew,
You had this beautiful, magical touch.
So my dear, I give you these lines,
My last words written to you.
Don't worry about me or these words of rhyme,
Love is wonderful till you pay your dues.
Where is the sun when you need it badly?
Where is the feeling of warmth you need to survive?
Why does one miss ever so sadly,
When a heart is broken... on a love that died.
WishesMade, copyright 11/11/99
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