A Distant Love , A Distant Warmth 

You have come , 

In all your warmth and love , 

In all your care and romance . 

You have come with your fire and your sparkle . 

And I am so happy. 

But darling I am dead , 

My heart numb and my eyes dry . 

The fire no longer raging in flames , 

Its like those orange flares of leftover burnt wood . 

Its like that burning charcoal . 

That , to which you have to get really close to , 

To get even a little warmth. 

I no longer have the desire and the energy to blame anyone , 

Perhaps the winter was too cold and the wood too weak . 

I burnt out early my love . 

I burnt out early .

And you can do all that you want to . 

You can add the fuel or you can water the fire . 

You can do all that you want to. 

And isn’t there very little that a burnt out pyre can do ? 

It can burn a little more 

Closer to your eyes yet distant from your heart . 



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