| The Way It Is |
| A piece of flint meets some steel, Causing a spark, which in turn Ignites into a flame, Pushing away the dark. At first, the flame is tiny, Licking its way among the small Pieces of kindling, giving off a Faint shimmering, like a candle in the hall. But soon enough, with enough of a push That flame grows. Burning away the larger sticks, And brighter it glows. Finally, it consumes the log, Ever burning brighter Until you have a roaring blaze, The flames growing ever whiter. But eventually, the flames begin to die. The wood spits, the fire sputters. That is the way it mostly is today Between two people who are lovers. |