In some cloud-covered evening sky
Distant from here,
The whole world is covered in a darkness
So thick that nothing can penetrate it
***
Man stands at the edge of a dying flame
Weak that not even his shadow rears against its glow
And he stretches out his hand to the smoky air
To feel it.
***
Soft embers glow upon the dark glass of his eyes
Thin black trails of smog coil about his hand like serpents.
He feels the warmth, the rush of curiosity
And grasps at the collapsing fountainhead of flame
***
Then, as his fingers curl around its heat
And the gleam in his black eyes dissipates,
As if his hand was stolen by the maw of a beast
He recoils in pain.
***
The ember, blacker now and dying faster
Falls to the floor before him.
But the man still looks upon it
His black eyes yet insist on swallowing its light
***
He watches the ember's last gasps
And tilts his head to the side.
His hand was blackened by flame
And his heartbeat sped up - faster.