All flames flame out in the end. The ember that once was fanned, Flamed up insistent and wild, Burning fuel so deftly piled, Leaping, dancing– what a sight! Warming and cheering with light. But now it fades, the fuel burned, And what remains must be turned; The darkened coals need a prod– A stir with an iron rod. Once again the flame revives, But fuel spent, it short survives. In ignominy it dies; Even smoke no longer flies. Nothing but gray dust is left, The gold gone, its place bereft. All flames flame out in the end: It’s a law […]

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