He had ached for a life of adventure,

For a hero's tale.

To ride off as a silhouette against the setting sun.

He had dreamt of escaping as an explosion

That ignites and bathes the world in light

Before disappearing into ashes.

He had fantasized of leaping off a cliff,

Hand in hand with faith,

Ready to be caught by angels.

He had envisioned leaving a pair of his footprints

In the minds of millions

And the hearts of thousands.

But instead he left as an old,

Flickering,

Flame.

He left as a spark only bright enough to light the hearts

Of those who reached for the warmth.