A Tale of Lost Loves and Burning Cities

A story as old as time? I suppose I could accommodate your broken heart. A loss of faith, humanity. It's all natural I guess. I'd be happy to oblige.

A catastrophe struck the world. People screamed and begged, cried out for help.

"It's the apocalypse!"

Hmph... Maybe it is.

They ran through the streets, panicked and dumbstruck. Turned on one another. They lost their loves, their families, their passions. Tears ran down the cheeks of even the most worn.

"It truly is the end."

As if it was that easy. Looking through the flames, you could see them. Those rare few. The ones who smiled through their tears. With them they brought hope. A spark.

In a world shrouded in darkness, a spark is all you need...

That spark will never fade.

Sparks tend to spread. One turns to two. Then to ten. A hundred, a thousand. An ember, then a wildfire, then an inferno. Ironic that a world covered in flames would be saved by a spark.

And it was. People rebuilt. People talked, people recovered. Hearts turned black bled again. And the world was whole.

But we'll never forget the ones we lost. And those tears still stain all of our cheeks. They themselves are a spark in this world. A spark we carry with us until we need that flame again. And that spark will always be it's own. Like I said, sparks spread. Their spark could become someone else's fire.

But even through it all, we'll always remember. We'll always hurt and mourn. That pain will never subside. It will never leave us. It will serve as a reminder that this is truly a tale of lost loves and burning cities...