X. The Eternal Flame

No longer do I weigh the shade and fire,

for both have shaped the marrow of my days.

The dark has carved the depth of my desire,

the light has taught my heart its brightest blaze.

They walk together, shadow, spark, and gleam,

a single flame that flickers, bends, and grows.

It is the torch that burns inside the dream,

the root of night, the blossom of the rose.

So love is not divided, grief is part,

its echo twines with joy in equal song.

The dark is woven deep into the heart,

the light endures, though fragile, fierce, and strong.

Thus flame eternal, born of ash and breath:

a living whole, both luminous in death.