Embers

What good is the glory, I do not bask;

What joy is the joy, I do not revel?

What use is a pain that is not mourned;

What free is the youth that doesn't rebel?

What warm is a memory, not replayed;

What point is the face unremembered;

What use is a smile that isn't returned;

What life is a life, 'un-embered'?