I don’t even remember that day.
The day that particular fire left me.
It was like an ember cast to the wind.
Stolen so fast that I didn’t even know it lost.

A different treasure was left in its place.
Gold exchanged for diamond.
That statue called Reality dressed in the precious metals of perspective.
It is still very valuable but I miss the feeling of what was taken.

This new treasure also weighs far more.
Atlas had a lighter burden to lift.
It whispers the lies of the future to me at night.
That fire used to drown it out.

If I sit very still during the day,
I sense the faintest glow of the coals of that familiar flame.
I manage to stoke them every so often.
Will that fire ever ignite again?