Wild embers in the wilderness glow and glimmer,
They gleam; for darkness attempts to wallow and swallow,
They flared eventually; for the sun shines and glows.
Our love was like the sun,
Potent, gallantry and dominant,
Alas, there was no locus of control.
There still shines a light to the loss:
The sun still stands and the solar still orbits,
Our youth is the beauty that emits,
Our future is the force that persists,
That perhaps someday time permits,
And somewhere we exist.
If the ember dies, just remember that we once were;
Wild embers in the wilderness glow and glimmer,
They gleam; for darkness attempts to wallow and swallow,
They flare eventually; for the sun shines and glows.
No regrets. No tempestuous heat.
Just let the air gently blow.
/Quoting Nikita Gill from the title of my poem: same title, distinctive style of writing./
