Biting the settling dust.

I see others take the path I once treaded,
The path which destination I've since dreaded,
A place of absolute extremes,
Where one is either in cookies and creams,
Or in anguish beyond expressible screams.

I would forsake my happiness,
If it means freedom from sorrow,
I would embody eternal coldness,
If it means a tearless tomorrow.

The flames have died and the ambers have cooled,
A dead passion that can never be refuelled,
The path less travelled I no longer choose,
Instead I'll be a hermitic recluse.

The eternal flame now eternally dead,
I realize I was in over my head,
As another cycle has just begun,
The tangled web of fate has again been spun,
After all that has been said and done,
It all amounts to absolutely none,