The Flaming Spark

She is like a light in the darkest times
When nothing else shines,
The spark of a dying flame
That cannot be put to shame,
The brightest side of an ember
In the cold of December,
And the heart of a star
That cannot be contained in a jar.

Her hair looks like a flame in a breeze
That the cold air could not freeze,
Her smile of a thousand suns
That shines and runs,
Even as beautiful as she,
It does not compare to a sailor in love with his sea.
Her spirit is as wild as a forest fire
That can't be put out, but can only be admired.

When she looks at you with her beautiful eyes
All I can do is stand there, stiff with butterflies,
Her eyes are filled with so much love
It's as if she came from heaven above,
When she gets close
All I smell is the sweetness of a rose,
The scent of an angel
That seems so natural.

Her fiery soul of a trillion stars
Only hide the deepest of scars,
Whatever she touches,
And whatever she clutches,
Will ignite the fire inside,
The fire that died,
So, so long ago,
The flame that became aglow once again
The spark that is here to stay and never again go to the place where it was once in.
She is the last spark in a dying flame.