A Newborn Ire

Devolving
at least in my thoughts,
where is the passion
that once felt
it could move a mountain
or stop the world?
Now, though, I want to get off,
or so the saying goes,
I recognize still,
what once was
in the languid moments
that fall unexpected
when the lights go out
and the humming ends,
their in the silent night
a newborn ire
is kindled.

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