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What is life but a single fleeting moment?
I contemplate as I stare at dancing shadows.
What is love but a moment of warmth.
In this neverending pit of cold in which we're forced to live.
It's a memory to torture as I sit in the cold.
Unflinching.
Unfeeling.
Numb as I stare at the lovers flames.
Watching the fire lick the night sky.
I am torn by my options.
Do I sit and watch the fire.
Wait for the moment I get to feel it's warmth.
Or do I embrace the darkness.
Absorb the cold.
And forget my loves that never last.
Memories that are altogether beautiful but painful?
The good memories haunt me. The bad make me smile.
Let me forget the fire.
Let me accept the cold.
What is pain but the relization of something better?
I laugh as I stare at dancing lights.
What is memory, but something that no longer exists.
I'm haunted by faces as I sit and contemplate.

This poem is Copyright © Makeshift_2134