The battered brazier barely burns, Its coals are going cold. A score or so the slack has smoked Through mischance manifold. But should the searing sparks be stoked? Return their raging roar? Or is it time they terminate? Extinguish evermore? What tidings will this tinder bring? A phoenix born anew? Or are these embers revenant, Rekindling what is due? The pyre’s path is perilous; Its destiny obscured. A single truth still thrills the hearth, A burn remains assured.
A Little Bit about the Poem
One October, I asked friends for single words to inspire me to write some Hallowe'en themed stories. Though these single words were initially limited to a spooky theme, I found the technique effective, and opened it up to any word at all in the following months. This poem was one, prompted by the word 'Fire'. I wrote many of these sorts of poems in a sitting, usually on the bus home from college. The simple lilt of common verse made it an easy cadence to write quickly, so ballads make up a large chunk of my work from then.
Most of it is mortifying nonsense, but I think there's some value to this one still. It's full of baby's-first poetic techniques, so if nothing else, I think it'd make a great teaching resource for kids someday. I'll be up there with "Titch Miller" and "Dulce et Decorum Est" yet.
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