Subduing The Phoenix Poem by Dan Reynolds

We went for a walk with a purpose in mind
though no destination as such.
A walk with a wish that what ever we'd find
we would use it to help us rekindle that touch.

That touch, like the first one, no more and no less,
bringing back all the bristling hairs on our necks.
Both burning and freezing. and though I digress,
to describe it in detail seems far too complex.

That touch... accidental? Or grounded in fate
That second when our tale began?
That briefest caress on which we meditate
when the world looked on me, as its happiest man.

So we went for that walk, with a purpose in mind
though I knew only one would return.
In my callous cold heart, where that touch was resigned
to remain with your ashes, when I left you to burn.