The Ash

I come from deep within the flames
I am old, no longer fresh with the searing burn of fire
I am light
And carried softly upon the restless breeze
Away
Away from my home
All I knew
And I settle atop the frigid beauty of the grounded grass
Chill
And covered with morning dew
I am the ash
And as the tears of rain pour down
I am no more
I was once the ash
But now I am dead
Though
I will live again
Someday