Last Gasp

This fire dies
I feel its quick dart
And  gutter
As  it spits its
Last spark in my face.

Its heat weak and
Almost  non-existent, its
Colour  drained,
It cannot sustain
Good  force.

It doesn't even chuckle
At  me anymore,  and
Despite my  frantic efforts
To  imbibe it with
Air enough  to breathe,

Huffing over its
Pale flame, it is
Diminishing in
Exhaustion for death
And  bargaining.

No  fuel remains
To  maintain the
Energy  required -
So  it loses purpose
And  with that loss life dies.

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