The Flames Can Only Grow
She lit the fire for warmth. The room was cold. It burned with carmine flames, And sanguine expectations of illuminationThat never cameDue to a shortage of blood and strengthAmongst the men and women in her life. It was the highest form of praiseFor her to even nodAt someoneToday. That was yesterday,When the scarlet flames flickered and almost died,And now the fire was burning in her hearthAnd in her ruby heartOnce again....
