My heart was equal to a frozen log. Then, there was a spark. One that turned into a flame, which rekindled my heart.

It grows, and grows. The fire gets warmer, and warmer, the more that spark appears. Smooth and velvety, was my
rekindled heart.

The log was greedy, and started to crack. The fire consumed it, and the log was starting to turn to ashes. I always knew that the tides would turn, but they broke the rekindled heart in half.

The heart tried to mend itself with needles and thread. It bled, and bled for the fire, so it would be warm. It was lost in a world of despair, and started to crave for more heat. The rekindled heart was melting.

The tides come slowly, slowly, and slowly, only to wipe away the slate clean that is the sand. Then the lanterns came upon the beach, but the rekindled heart could not be warmed. It was starting to freeze. The rekindled heart was not one anymore.

Then a gust of wind came, then snow, ice, finally a blizzard, and once again, the heart that was once equal to a burning log, is now frozen once again.