It hits me like a hot spark,
a burning singe from the orange flame;
that's life, I gasp, and yet nothing changed.

Like a fever chill, sweat beading at the brow,
I remember how it once was,
only to repeat through whispers of the wind.

Here we go again, another thought,
skipping across the lake like a smooth rock,
but just so, it sinks to the bottom,
with a final sound: *Plop!