Cenaz is the letter C
Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem (from ragweedforge.com)
The torch is known to every living man by its pale, bright flame;
it always burns where princes sit within.
From Tuesday, when the flames of Cenaz were burning bright and high, they have now lost their strength and (metaphorically) become smouldering coals. Much as when light source begins to dim, shadows, darkness and obscurity start to come closer. Sight is dimmed as the scene becomes indistinct. The heat might still be there, but the light has faded. Perhaps the flames were partially doused, as the seeking of fulfillment has quenched the spark somewhat, cooling the passions. Or maybe by pacing yourself with the distance to go, the passions have cooled. It could also be the burst of action and energy from the day before has left you drained, and the fires within need to fed, in order to burn strong and bright again.