Pure, Wise, and True

Dear Self Reflections,

 

Oh, the glow of the embers resting on the ground.

The flicker of sparks leaping into the night so sound.

Warmth hugs me, undeterred by the cold fall air,

Crackles and pops keeping me aware.

Logs char and burn within the ring,

Showing me the harsh truth of life, an end to everything.

Mesmerized as I gaze into the dancing flames.

On thoughts and actions I reflect as the smoke, high it aims.

Its pure glow flickers throughout the wood.

Becoming a true man,  if only I could.

Life is short and full of pain

In some connection, the fire is my story all the same.

I glow in my time, but fuel is small,

so I don't last for very long at all.

Full of hope and fuel to be lit.

To rise to a peak but only go down from it.

An old man I have become, full of regret but once desire.

I hope that someday, people will look to a pure, wise, and true, bonfire.

 

In Humble Regards,

Yours Truly

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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