Shes got passion in her soul but every day it weakens. Less and less her eyes glow like embers, and her skin turns to ash. So very fragile, everyday the fire is contained a little more withen the walls of her heart. She stands before her only love, ripping it out, and handing it to him in her crumbling hands. The ashes dissolve into the wind and you can hear her faint whisper. Its better to burn than to fade away.

-Bryanna Lee J.

(This is my second origanal poem on this site and i really hope you guys enjoy it, or maybe even care to share some advice.)