Now The Aftermath of the Flame

The final chapter of life is the aftermath of death. I am merely the memory of my existence. Born once from a flame, now I am simply a smoke.Niether a black or a clean white color, I am a vague grey, seeming like both realty and as an illusion. In appearance I seem to be soft, kind and graceful. But the truth is I am toxic,villaneous and unpleasant to the smell.

Like a fleeting soul I am leaving the dead flame's body and casting my eyes towards the sky, prepared to be Judged.

Trapped in this nature, I tar anything that comes in my short disappearing journey. However, even this could not take place, I could simply disappear from time, space and memory within seconds of the flame dying. Never to be heard of again or remembered. This is surely the end of a dying flame.