A Holy Flame

The two of them, they did exist,
But it was a difficult world.
The film it was on bleached and bleached,

Even though they stayed very still
And watched the mountains carefully
For anything that might return.

The mountains paled. Nothing returned.
They lived a quiet existence.
It took them a while, but they learned

It was getting more beautiful,
They were getting more beautiful,
As everything faded. How sweet,

They thought, as they sat, smiled, and watched,
Knowing that at some point the blank
Would go beyond washing them out.

The light came down from the mountains.
The pallor consumed the mountains
But slowly, like a holy flame.