A Never-Ending Fire

A thing too perfect to be remembered;
A life too short is quickly forgotten.
Or possibly held on to for too long.

Blinded by light or black cloth -
She can no longer see the world around her,
Taken from here.

Too much longing: They wait
But they will never know why she left.

From very far or very close -
You can see all she left behind.

As if putting arms into fire,
It stings to see her gone.
Knowing she hurt so badly.

Any point of a circle is it's start,
Her life is never-ending.
She leaves us with words, sounds
Not forgotten.

In a room in which nothing has moved,
Hasn't been touched.
It has an eerie feeling, although almost calming.

I look back one last time saying my goodbyes
And I know I am free.