I care a little bit less, with each and every passing day. Not wanting and hating feeling that way, worries assail me – have I become heartless?
The blazing fire has turned cold – embers pushed aside in a heap, then slowly buried deep, leaving only traces of cooling molten gold.
I turn my gaze to the moon, it’s cold and bright – not a minute too soon, I realise I just cannot accept trite. I want to feel more than I do, I want to see it through, yet…
Has the time come to acquiesce? My barren heart still wavering – is it best to acquiesce nonetheless?
Image Credit: “Tired Angel” – kidy-kat.deviantart.com