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