How long does it take for love to fade,
From first flicker to the last dying embers?
How long does it take for love to change,
From passion to complete indifference?
Is the death of love the birth of hate?
The end of care the start of cursing?
From second glance to the final look,
How long does it take for love to die?
Passion is a flame that burns us all:
Sometime, somewhere, someone
Ignites this fire of feeling,
Starting with a tiny spark,
fragile and flickering.
Easily snuffed with unkind words
Smothered by too much desire
Too much need and expectation,
It may falter and then fail.
Nurtured, cupped within caring,
The pearl of fire can grow,
Blossom into blooming bright.
But as a fire needs fuel, and air,
Love needs food and freedom
To flourish, to burn constant,
Continue even when storms rage
And in the waiting quiet of winter,
When the banked up fire glows,
That solid vestal flame may become
A brilliant beacon to warm and inspire
Those beyond the simple hearth-place
To cherish too their love.