While I was looking the other way your fire went outLeft me with cinders to kick into dustWhat a waste of the wonder you wereIn my living fire I will keep your scorn and mineIn my living fire I will keep your heartache and mineAt the disgrace of a waste of a life
Kristin Cashore
It was a hurting tune, resigned, a cry of heartache for all in the world that fell apart. As ash rose black against the brilliant sky, Fire's fiddle cried out for the dead, and for the living who stay behind to say goodbye.
death world living sky sad black hurting cry goodbye dead heartache rose ending brilliant ash
poem fire sad archer
How unjust then to meet that person you love, and be kept away from them only because ones bed is made of hay, and the other, feathers.
true sad
Waste is Criminal.
life true earth sad
When Brocker arrived he took her hands and held them to his face and cried into them.
fire sad
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