A dying fire

They surround it
Sit around it
Wring their hands
Stamp their feet
"No warmth" they complain

"A dying fire"
Murmurs pass around

Disinterested
The blazing red
Smoulders the coal
Caresses the sleeping ashes
Meanders through cinders

Drunken
In its raw cannibal grace
It dances the taandav within

A prod of passion
An offering of soul
Wouldn't have evoked
A soaring flame,
Crackling sparks,
The sought warmth, even?

But no!
The blazing red
Croons its yearning
Stirred by its own scalding heat

"No warmth" they complain
"A dying fire"
Murmurs pass around...

For my cousin and my soul twin....both aquarians ;-D