Someone rekindle this dying fire before embers fade to ash.
Build it up into a raging pyre once more,
Let all our past sins and failings char.
Those memories however, are what help make us who we are.
A funeral pyre?
No, only a funeral for our old selves.
A celebration of rebirth.
Smoke follows us 'til emancipating winds come a’ blowing,
Only a slight taste in the air is left, a haunting reminder.
Leave nothing un burnt.
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