Her Last Word

Ashes, still burning though weakened, fall to the ground spreading a small flame.
Despite her fear, she knows how to bare the aching pain.
Her fire grows once she realizes it will never be the same.

Smells fill the air, something like ash and a bit like fear.
Though you never see her as she nears.
The scars you left her are like holes, deep enough to hold her tears.

Smoke rises from the corner of a photograph,
A picture that showed how easy it was to put on a smile and laugh.
But soon, that corner will be gone and you’ll hear the crying of the other half.

A day will come and your cold tower will finally be ablaze.
While you cry, reminiscing all that you lost, she’ll smile and happily gaze.
You’ll grow weak as if strength was only a phase.
“Ashes,”  is her last word, and you’re frozen still as the fire is raised.