Cinders And Fools

T’was a blast from the past blew in that night.
I stood berated by the embers of yesteryears tongues,
solemn, serrated recants fumbled through the darkness,
plummeting down the steep spiralling staircase, into the hellish gloom,
to where only the cruelest of words that others can muster will take you.
“Go now!” rumbled from behind me,
I left and never looked back, for there is little warmth to be had
from cinders and fools.

©️ 2022 Lathen Griffiths