His joy was dead and his youth spent, he was knobbed and wrinkled, and his limbs bent in the long years to his gold chained; in his heart's furnace the fire waned.

The fire was waning and the air becoming chilly.

The fire was waning.

The fire waxed and waned.

Now, in his seventies, his fire had waned.

They all slept and the fire waned.

Such a look belonged on the battlefield, late in the day after the first fire of battle-rage had waned.

Coquelin stared at his pipe bowl, where the fire waxed and waned, waxed and waned.

Yet, the dark fire waned; the life force oozed out of her, as he had so often witnessed before with other androids.