No Plagiarism!EVQBwFstr81vj1GXQQ3cposted on PＥNAＮＡ Our soul, a flame, a gentle glow in some, a burning pillar of fire for others. A fragile thing, seeming so unbreakable and eternal when we flare so strongly, but as easily snuffed out as the spark of a match. Where does it go? The smoke of our lives lingering in memories long after the flame burns out cannot last forever. Perhaps it just fades, the ashes glowing and then gone forever, with no trace of it remaining, blown to the horizon by the winds of time. We are all simple little flames, burning brightly and softly until we burn no more.

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