Candle
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You can’t burn some memories
Fire becomes them
Til they darken like ash
Blowing in the smoke she exhales
But do not breathe them in
Do not step in the ash
Or the flames for that matter
Wick
Orange blossom amber
You light my day
You light the night, when you are so little
Duties of hours until daybreaks
Sweet honey breeze fills the vacant room
in the crimson and gold,
you burn the brightest,
the stories you've told,
left me ignited.
the flame flickers and cracks,
don't leave at dawn.
i light the candle wax,
What could this all be about?
You creep into almost all of my dreams.
I just thought that I forgot about you again, or so it seems.
I honestly haven't seen you in years.
However, forgetting you never comes near.
Some days I feel like a burning candleLong forgotten and wearing thinUntil finally I run outUntil finally I drown myselfUntil finally my light goes outAnd it’s all my fault
The little candle burns its wick,With fiery whisper drops a drip,A passion only seen from near,A slowly shrinking, darting tip.
I love the way a flame dances;Slowly and gracefully moving aboutWrapping itself among the wick and emberMelting the air that we breathAnd how it does it’s gentle danceIt brings everything else to move with it
I lie in distant planes of a lost timeAnd my groans and sighs echo against the stones at my feet.For two waxen demons sit on my shoulderssAnd have grown too heavy for my frame.A wing made of wax cannot be folded;Neither can it bear the weight of I
It was like a candle being blown out: you leaving.
My world has been dark before (it always has), but
At least I had a little flame to give me hope back then.
Drip drop The light is ignitedDrip drop A puddle forms, a pool of art Drip drop Forms swiftly changing Drip drop Dew on the grass Drip drop Falling, swirling leaves Drip drop The flickering shape of whimsical creatures Drip drop Tall cathedrals wr
crackling amber flame,
consuming all that it can reach.
tears of wax bubble down the sides,
heat radiating from a lonely source.
the wick curling in withering pain,
Alone in the forest of the black gnarled trees
They beckon for me to join them in the dark.
No moon shines bright through where there should be leaves,
Just black, bare. branches and bark.
Little Candle burning bright,
dancing on beeswax and lumber.
May it light flicker so after I wake from my slumber.
Her little blaze is gentle, warming me with ease.
