ashed.

The fire has died, the flames a memory,
the heat forgotten, the warmth a mockery.
All that is left, are ashes and charred timber,
all that remains glowing coals and ember.

Ashes to nourish the earth, feeding future trees,
Glowing coals dormant yet potent, awaiting the gentle breeze.
The breeze that will one day come, fanning the ember
Till that day has come, all else will hold still, remembering the fire.