The Unkindled Flame

 

Here I rest —
A hollow echo where a heart once beat,
A silent shore where restless waves now meet.
I loved the burning pyre, its fervent glow,
The fierce ambition, seeds I yearned to sow.
Each spark a promise, each fierce lick of flame,
Whispered of glory, of a spoken name.
I held within me immeasurable potential,
A universe of what could be, substantial
In dreams, yet formless, never truly cast.
A future glimpsed, too beautiful to last.

Yet I achieved nothing. The grand designs,
Became mere dust, unwritten, faded lines.
My desires were endless, a consuming fire,
That scorched my spirit, reaching ever higher,
For joys unwon, for triumphs never known,
A king without a kingdom, on a barren throne.
But none were fulfilled. Each fervent plea,
Fell on deaf ears, in vast, indifferent sea.
Not a single moment of peace did I know,
Only the anxious current, ebb and flow
Of striving, wanting, a perpetual storm,
No quiet harbor, no embracing form.

No one to call mine, no hand to gently hold,
No whispered secrets, stories to unfold.
No one to love or be loved by, a lonely plight,
Through sun-drenched days and star-bereft night.
The yearning for connection, a constant ache,
A fragile vessel that could never break
Through walls unseen, unspoken, self-imposed,
A heart that bled in silence, ever closed.
From beginning to end, my life was a relentless blaze —
A furious inferno through bewildered days.

Like Varanasi's Manikarnika ghats, by Ganga's ancient flow,
Where souls find freedom, letting all attachments go,
My own spirit burned, fueled by endless, hot desire.
A futile struggle, a consuming art,
That tore apart the very, very heart.
And now, the fire is still. The embers cease to glow,
Only cold ash where ardent passions used to flow.
The final smoke ascends, then fades from view,
Leaving behind a silence, stark and true.