Fading Embers Poem by April Humason

I stood at the edge of a wounded thought,
Where shadows whispered all they taught.
Slipping down paths my fear had drawn,
Searching for light before the dawn.

I danced with fire that wasn't kind,
Let poison wrap around my mind.
It stole the breath I tried to keep,
Pulled my spirit into deep.

No arms could reach where I had gone,
No gentle kiss could undo the wrong.
My heart grew tired, my soul grew thin,
Lost in wars that lived within.

I lived inside a sorrowed flame,
A fading spark without a name.
Once I burned with hope and light,
Now only ash remained in sight.

I felt the quiet near of night,
The distant dimming of the light.
Yet somewhere in the darkened air,
A whisper said, 'I still am there.'

And in that last and fragile breath,
I felt a hand stronger than death.
Not judgment's voice, but mercy's grip,
Pulling me from the edge I slipped.

Now though my fire is burning low,
I feel His warmth begin to grow.
Not faded, lost, or cast away —
But held, and healing, day by day.