Burning flames,
Become ash.
That floats upon the wind.
Like the leaves of autumn.
In the fire, I stand,
Alone and unafraid.
Like the ancient trees,
I become a memory,
Of the past,
A bed of seeds.
Within the sky,
The stars watch.
As everything burns,
The color of flames.
Change comes upon us,
As time passes by.
We now say farewell,
To yesterday.
To the me of the past.
Burning flames.
Glow a warm red,
As they turn all to grey and black.
I stand alone,
On the field of battle.
Fighting a war,
For the ones who are no longer able.
I continue to fight,
As all becomes like a dream.
Within the burning red,
I become a dream.
A story of the past,
That becomes a tale.
That is told to those of tomorrow,
The ones who live on.
Farewell is all I can say,
For I end is near.
Burning flames,
Become ash.
That floats upon the wind.
Like the leaves of autumn.
In the fire, I stand,
Alone and unafraid.
Of what is to come,
Is fate itself.
Within the burning flames,
The glow of warm red,
I become ash upon the wind.
That floats upon the wind,
Like the leaves of autumn,
My time,
This season of burning red.
Will come to an end.
Within the flames that beckon change,
That calls tomorrow to come;