Our love is a fire, brightly lit in the cold.

As the lights around fade, the flame becomes bold.

It waves

        and ripples

                  and grows

in it's power.

                    The darkness

          and shadows

and weary lights

cower.

It's days are cut short in perfection however.

For mistrust

           and jealousy

                    and blame 

become clever.

They turn into storms of dust and wind

That besiege the emotion until the end.

The flame grows dim as it fights for it's life.

But the gusts are too strong and continue the strife.

The strong will succeed while the weak will perish.

A flame is a feeling that needs to be cherished.

So keep your love flaring and don't give in

the the growling

                and hatred

                         and power

of wind.