A falling sun paints the sky orange
A small camp fire glistens in the snow
The coruscate flame sways from side to side
Absorbing the chilling air
With each inhale the flame glows brighter
Making the world just a little lighter
It exhales a warm but cloudy cough
Sharing its wealth, letting heat off
Wood is added to keep the flame beating
But can't compete with the cold winters greeting
The fire is slowly dying
As the fires flame takes its last few breaths
The light starts to fade
Until orange embers are all that remain
With a final gust the light is taken away
Leaving the lifeless embers for all to mourn
But it all restarts
When another is born