Spent Match
Arrowheads of green-yellow eject from their cores;
Arrowheads of magick - violent in their birth,
striking hot from throes of friction.
A flame seething in passion,
unwavering in strength,
flickering bright.
In a blink, a tiny flame grows weaker,
sputtering to breathe.
A silent implosion,
a wispy, sulfurous moment.
The crumble of carbon.
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