A piece falls to a cold barren ground.
I sit alone in my world.
I watch as the smoke curls to the sky.
Twisting, it is liberated as it ascends
To the great open.

People…
Where are all the people?
Another piece falls.
Burned, used, and wasted.
I smell the stale air
Mixed with my own aroma.
As night falls I begin to notice my solitary glow.
But I am not warmed.
Still cold I labor on.
But I labor alone.
Alone, yes.
Did you hear me? Alone!
But there is no one listening.
Another piece drifts away
Shattering softly as it touches the ground.

Reflecting…
I see the remains of those who came before me
Scattered and swirling in the wind.
The more I lose
The quicker I approach the end.
I’m losing purpose.
I’m losing function.
I’m losing order.
I’m losing it all;
Everything that I never had to begin with.
Who am I?

Solitary…
Yet another piece falls down.
Down, down, down
The consuming spiral
That tears apart your soul.
It eats away; consumes me.
As I smolder to a slow nothingness,
Smoke goes up –
Ashes drift down…

I glow bright today.
But my empty existence is reaching its time.
Its finite time,
Time of termination.
I feel it coming as my fingers glow warmer.
My lips will soon be still.
My taste will diminish.
I will be snuffed out
With no aftertaste to leave behind.
I see it!
It’s coming!
Another piece blows away.
I’m on my last strand.
I think I’m there…

…I cease to think.
I was.
I no longer be.
I burned out alone;
Always alone.
I reached that point.
Only my filter remains.
And it is cast among
The rest.
The rest.
Useless.
Alone.
I pause.
I die.