Dying Embers Poem by William Baez

In trees of dying leaves and fading weeds.
Before the creatures retreat into an annual slumber.
Rests the tale of two,
Who lies in love and kindness but, alas,
" I shall be telling this with a sigh".

Between the tender kiss of love.
And the gentle hug, who rests above.
Sleeps below the creeping affection of these lovers,
Who at every section.
Talk and love their deepest thoughts, but alas,
"I shall be telling with a sigh".

Given over to love, were these two.
Like ice to chill, heat to flame.
Yet resting slumber, like the bears of the wild,
Like the ferocious beasts in their winter sleep.
Sleeps the stark and meek shame of these two lovers.
A shame that puts the flame to rest
And dissipates the ice into air.
Oh how these two lovers, in all themselves shared, yet starving to care.
Oh how "I shall be telling this with a sigh."

For this tale of love ends with sleep,
Like the winter.
When the beasts lie grave-like in the dead of winter,
Is killed the love of these two strangers now.
Beguiled, these two, to instead to love to die.
"Oh how ages hence, this will be told with a sigh".