You once said you were afraid our friendship was gone.
That the silence had burned a bridge.
A bridge we have met on many times in our life.
A bridge that we shared our hopes, fears, stupid stunts, and crazy dreams.
Once the silence but snow on the bridge, but did not burn it as you had feared.
And when the snow cleared and found us standing there laughing again you said you were glad, for this was a bridge you did not want to burn.
But now smoke fills the air and moves with lies and cowardly emotions in the sky, a spark ignites and slowly the bridge is consumed.
Rain fills the smoggy sky.
The fire is extinguished.
Ashes float away in the sky, what ruminates of the bridge are carried down stream, and all that remains are two lonely shorelines who hold scorched bits of earth and rock as a reminder of the great thing that had once been standing tall and strong.
Left with the memory and scars of what once had been.
