Warmth

Gusts and squalls, hail and storms,
You cyclonic vortices of wind
That chill and drench, try and wrench
Open hands that surround the flame!

Skin is scarred, and dry cuts bleed
And hairs stand up on their end.
Wind through fingers; the flame flutters
And threatens to die out on me.

Know that I shan't, know that we won't
Give up on this tender glow.
'Cause when you are gone, and you will be gone
I will be left with the warmth of the flame.