Someone threw water over the flames.
The fire that used to roar,
Now reduced to mere embers,
Glowing faintly.
What once was,
Has ceased to be.
Yet in the darkness,
When all seems lost,
There is always hope.
From the smouldering embers,
A great fire can rise again.
All it takes is a nudge or a poke,
And what once was,
Will be again.
Look now!
A lick of red,
Dances freely,
Twining and untwining,
Flickering slightly,
But still burning bright,
Still burning strong.
A light in the dark,
A warmth in the cold,
A hope in the hopelessness.
Fire perseveres.
Hope perseveres.
There is always hope.