Ashes!

I love this thing called ashes
It’s better than all the burning
After all it is,
The remnants of what survived,
Doesn’t it reek of bravery?

Ashes, the cool, soft belongings
That get very distinct attention
On their good days
And no attention on the rest
Are my favourite.

Didn’t I tell you,
It’s the ashes
Which induce faith in me
As I continue to burn parts of me
That one day it will all cool down,
Child.

Ha! Child,
The child that I’m setting on fire
Wants its closure,
Prays for its ashes
Wants to test its time and waters
Wants to sleep and breathe,
That child wants its ashes,
It can’t burn anymore,
It’s done, with fire
It wants ashes to heal its burns
Is it too much to ask for?
Is this too a child’s illegitimate demand?