i've heard some say that passion burns without a word,
i try to think my passion is etched into the words I write.
but there is something wrong, all the things in this life of mine, have been sparks,
and in a blizzard of doubt, I fail to ignite my soul.

my childhood seemed like a warm flicker in the past,
my great friends,
i watched them grow up with me
in a flash of light.
i watched some flicker on and off,
some even snuffed out by our own beliefs.

love has had me, and love has left me,
we all know the heat of that fire.

even with all these flashing lights,
none of the embers seem to light the damp wood stacked neatly in my soul.

but in this blizzard of doubt, I strive to ****** the flame to ignite my soul,
so I might feed my warmth to those who need the comfort of a friendly light.