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The Fire and The Fog

I cannot understand my family’s love.

I know it is there, like many others do, but

it is shrouded by the Fog.

The impenetrable Fog.

My eyes cannot penetrate the snow-white mist,

my feet catch on the finger-like vines, and

the Torch burns so weakly in the Fog; I’ve never wandered far.

The Fire remains untouched.

I know I must and I will

hold high the Torch

and journey through the Fog,

the impenetrable Fog.

I find the Fire, weak and small

burning, but barely, because

of all those years left neglected and untended.

It may be too late.

There is not a moment to lose.

I caress, shield, kindle, and brighten.

I set aflame the dying ember,

the faint and frail Fire.

Little by little, the flames grow stronger,

brighter and hotter than ever before;

it is truly the brightest flame I’ve ever seen.

The strongest kind.

The Fire burns bright and clear through the Fog,

the impenetrable Fog.

Things, dark and sinister,

begin to fade away at the strength of the light.

I can feel my heart lighten

as emotions dissolve, almost flee

from the light of the Fire.

And the Fog lifts.

I realize I’ve found the love

and caress, shield and kindle and brighten more.

Love burns bright and clear.
I understand my family’s love.

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