Old flames

When old flames die down
and become flamming embers
sometimes its not our place
Or authority to fan them embers
and make them burn again.
Flames are meant to die for a reason
and when we play with fire
Eventually we'll all get burnt.
Our hearts are furnaces
And love is an uncontrollable fire.
We love the warmth of an open hearth
but discarded embers is just that,
Embers meant to be discarded.
Not reminiscent flames
meant to be rekindled.
The excitement of fresh fires burning
Is new flames a blazing
And the crackle of new experiences.
Old flames
Is just new caked up heartbrakes
and not meant to be revisited.

I went back to an old flame
That was great when it was young.
The passion was uncontrollable
And the desire was flammable accellerants,
Alas, time and wisdom
has since become the maturity
That is the extinguisher
And I'm not all that young any more.
My heart still desires
An uncontrollable fire
For it's furnaced fashioned walls
but the chimney of the mind
Still remembers
Flames that left unhealthy soot.
Dead, dry twigs of loneliness
And the splinters of depression is no comparison
to the new yule logs of refreshing seasons of happiness.
New flames burn new and exciting trails
And the unknown fears of blinding, blue blazing passion
is gasolines flowing towards lit matches littered at our feet.
Who wants to kick a match
that'll set a spark
to burn new flames
And leave old flames to smolder in the dark?