Thursday, September 1, 2011


All I can see around me is ashes.  Ashes floating in the wind, choking the air, painting everything a dismal grey.

Not even a few remaining burning embers can be seen amongst them; everything is cold.  Dead.

They are, of course, the ashes of my life.  Every thought, hope, and dream has died....burnt blowing into the atmosphere as if they never existed.

I look at them and wonder, what was the point?  What is the point?

I have nothing left to burn, no hidden stores of fuel that can reignite the flame.  It is all spent.

So I go on, an empty shell, going about my empty existence, working my empty job, smiling an empty smile.....longing for a warmth that will never return.

Copyright Steven Clark 2011

Written for GBE 15


  1. As sad for you as this makes me feel, I can't help but admire the consistency of your metaphor. It is very well done and shows your talent as a writer. I can only hope that you rise out of the ashes like phoenix.

  2. wow sweetie two days in a row writing. When you are on empty you run by rote. Until you stop

  3. I'm not quite as bad off as this makes me sound, I had the word ashes in my head and couldn't wrap my brain around a poetic form for it so I just prosed it. Come to think of it though, I was feeling pretty bleak yesterday so I guess it fits.

  4. Sue - yeah, unbelieveable right? I said I probably wouldn't be doing much writing yet here I am. I've given up trying to figure myself out.

  5. I agree with Angela, this shows what a tremendous writer you are. PS: I gave up trying to figure myself out ages ago. Great post.

  6. Langley, thank you for the compliment. I don't really consider myself a writer, it's just something I do to deal with the mess in my head so I won't implode. Perhaps I should?

  7. Wow, this is deep!! Phenomenal write!


  8. You always spark emotion with your writing, and this is no exception. Well done!