A/N: Poems into Stories Competition, Sonnet 2: When forty winters shall beseige thy brow, William Shakespeare. About the Flamels. :D
A Larger Poetry Collection
169. Light of Life
The light of life is quick to fade away
into the gloom: a poppy field once red
and bleeding with the gall of youth
now dry and cracked like flaking skin
clinging together past its prime –
If possible, he'd turn those cold winter nights
looking warm again, before a fireplace
where the vibrant youth still burns
like a campfire flame –
Though they had tried, with that elixir
of eternal life, but that time
has only made them thin and worn.