"Burning Bridges, Or Cremation?"

Leaving someone, or some place behind,
not wishing to face, wanting nothing which remind
Longing only to erase, every trace by burning bridges.
Images of the hurt; ashes to ashes, dirt to dirt,
and so we walk away, not turning toward the fire.

The blazing funeral pyre we have made,
for fear of seeing one who stayed.
Standing on the bridge to watch us go,
trapped in the inferno's rage.

Another page added to the chapters of our story,
love found, love lost.
Burned bridge, or crematory?
Tragic, senseless holocaust.
Before that final bridge is crossed,
the match is struck and tossed.

The fire set, you may be destroying dreams as well;
casting yourself into a hell of regret,
unable to resurrect a warm loving touch from cold ashes.
Fine ghostly gray white powder collected in an urn,
the final resting place, of bridges that we burn.