The match is finally struck.

The flames begin to consume.

The bridge is burning.

You haven't tried to cross in years,
but I attempt everyday,
now I won't be able to.

Flames lick at memories,
turning them to ash,
that scatters in the wind.

The roar of the fire,
drowns out my laugh,
but can't hide my tears.

The only way across now is to swim.

Or by boat.

But the waters are treacherous.