When the fire burns out, darkness prevails, leaving behind a void that’s hard to repair.

The warmth once felt, is now a distant echo, as embers fade, and passion’s glow goes low.

In our hearts, the flames danced wild and free, fuelled by love’s fervor, for all to see.

But time, relentless, takes its heavy toll, and the fire we nurtured begins to roll.

Once vibrant sparks, now flicker and wane, shall we attempt to hold onto what remains?

Like the setting sun, they slowly dim, leaving behind ashes, and memories so grim.

Yet, despair not, for every fire’s end, may serve as a blessing, a chance to mend.

For in the aftermath, new seeds may sow, and blossoms of hope, with time, shall grow.

For when the fire burns out, we learn anew, that love, like flickering flames, can renew.

With a gentle touch and nurturing embrace, we can reignite the fire, and restore its grace.

So let us gather the fragments of dreams, and breathe life into love’s fragile seams.

For though the fire burns out, it’s never lost, it’s just a signal to rekindle the frost.

Embrace the darkness, with hope and refrain, the fire’s demise be not in vain.

Let us find the spark, ignite a new fire, and let love’s flames burn brighter with new dreams and desires.

-🦩