A quiet ember, smoldering slow, Its purpose lost, no flames to show. Not like the spark of a healing fire, But a ceaseless burn that will not tire.
The body’s guard, once strong and keen, Turns restless, caught in a fervent scene. No foe to fight, no wound to mend, Just tissue scorched, a war no end.
Persistent whispers of pain arise, In weary joints, beneath pale skies. Fatigue, the shadow, drapes the day, As redness blooms in silent decay.
Polluted air and toxic streams, Fuel the blaze with acrid dreams. A bite too sweet, a life too still, Fans the heat, it bends the will.
Immune's sharp blade, misled, awry, Cuts healthy bonds with a battle cry. A heart’s own road may choke and harden, Its pathways lined with time’s grim garden.
Yet hope remains, a gentle hand, In nature’s gifts, a fertile land. Fruits that burst with colors bright, Can temper flames, restore the light.
A mindful breath, a calming sea, Release the chains, set tension free. The fight begins with care and change, A balance sought in lives rearranged.
For chronic flames may yet subside, When wisdom walks with time as guide. Through strength, resolve, and love’s embrace, The fire tamed, life finds its grace.
