The Fire and the Matchstick
Once upon a strike of a stick
As minute as a clock tick
Timed enough to cause a flick
An ash of the darkness
Long as it lives, gripping whilst
Tiptoeing it's way, breathless
Smoke twirling like poetry lyrics
The ink to a pen, the fire to the matchstick
An orange amber, painting it black
Yet, the matchstick smoking back
The light's never showing the breakout
But dying before the match even runs out
Fireless, because now is the ash of then
In hindsight, the match missed itself when
It missed the fire that burnt like a passionate feeling
In the end, happiness felt like a journey rather than an outcome
Dragging the two against just to be together
Shortlived like a spark of hope for a half that's better
For us, forever was hidden in the never
Breathless and deathless, the synonyms of ours
Counting down the seconds, one, two, three, four
Flashbacks to, the spark of a something, before
The match matching the caressing of the flame for,
Fasting forward, a sadly ever after of an evermore