Page 51 - TheBridge_Vol16

ASHES TO ASHES

Shelley Whalen

He is dead and I am alive
despite my fire being
ashes in my hands and ashes in my eyes.
I have been like this since the day we died.
His ashes to my ashes
are the representation of my grief.
I’ve been taken by sleep, lost inside my burnt dreams.
Ashes of motivation are a constant motif,
but I promised him I would live his life
walking through fire, worth the reminisce
because my love was his final wish.
But his wish will only fade
because I’m carrying this ghost in his place.
I kindle his memory, my source of flame,
but his death burned my love to ash.
Death burned my chances and death burned my drive;
death burned away my life on the day he died.
But ruin inside ruin,
I am still not afraid to meet their eyes.
I’ll be smoldering before the end of the night.
I let his blaze replace mine
but ashes to ashes, every fire dies.

Vol. XVI | 39