Seekers of the Fire

the trees turn their backs upon
the last of the light,
where cold blows the winter,
and pale comes the night

the last bit of warmth, that goes
engulfed by doubt —
and seekers of the fire know:
the flames are
out


in the wilderness
of light chased and hope betrothed,
some still recall how
the fire once called to good
the people who long slumbered

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

4 thoughts on “Seekers of the Fire”

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