In the quiet curl of silver smoke,
Lies a story untold, a silent plea,
A dance of flames that softly spoke,
Of dreams that once set hearts free.

Each flicker, a moment lost in time,
A breath drawn deep, a fleeting spark,
Whispers of warmth in the coldest clime,
A journey embarked in the dark.

Ashes fall like forgotten rain,
Marking paths of choices made,
A gentle sigh amidst the pain,
In shadows where the memories fade.

Yet, in the remnants of the night,
There lingers a tender, wistful glow,
A testament to the fleeting flight,
Of moments captured long ago.