Life In A Candle-Odysseus
Ignited candle
It's yellow flame
Birth they call it
A brand new life
It breaths with the rest
What makes it special
The luminary
as it is called
It lights the room
Not as bright as a sun
With a leak of wind
It would cease
It is so fragile
Simple yellow flame
Not hot enough to cook
But enough to burn
The waxed life
Encased within
For some time
A short time
A drop of life
Hits the floor
Shortened the wick
Turned to ash
In an opera
Sung with the rest
A simple show
To appease the god
Our light brightens
We breathe as one
Brothers of mine
With light as one
The wind blows
But our flames dance
Huddled together
Missing the final blow
A violent gust
A flame goes out
My fallen brother
One less luminary
Swept for life
To breathe deeper
Yearning for revenge
The wind, another cringe
A drop of life
Hits the floor
Shortened the wick
Turned to ash
Again we light
The coastal dawn
Our faded life
We, forgotten
Rain douses us
One by one, dark
It befalls opera
The darkened room
Goodbye they tell me
Their heat growing dim
All have faded now
Their wax has gone too
The yellow fame
The golden knight
The heaven hue
The found lost light
Dowsed by water
Caressed by death
Cut off from earth
Dark by what stops
Is it she
The moral
Forsaken
The temptress
Ignited once again
To have another breath
Revived from the cold dark
By wings, air, by heat, love
It was the end
Tribulation cease
Hope was restored
Ignited once again
Keeping the flame
Always burning
A drop of life
Hits the floor
Shortened the wick
Turned to ash
Another storm
To dim the flame
A last attempt
A final trial
The flame's breath
Shallow but
Not yet gone
Still yellow
The lesser of light
Higher in numbers
Darker luminaries
A blood reddened flame
Placed in the center
Exhausted is the
Yellow flame of light
Exacting revenge
A deep breath
A shadow
Answer of
Athena
The red flames gone
The wax has burnt
The wick is gone
Their opera
Now lit by yellow
The room is at peace
To live life as free
From macabre
A drop of life
Hits the floor
Shortened the wick
Turned to ash
Calm is the room
Warm, of which
The yellow fills
Silent life
The wax more gone
Than what was there
Treading the end
The wicks last breath
Wax stalagmites
Showing the life
Of not a candle
But of a man
Of what remains
Wax not special
To be shown all
It's legacy
With a gust of wind
It had not cease
Compared to the sun
The room it lit
Goodbye I tell me
My heat growing dim
I have faded now
My wax has gone too
A drop of life
Hits the floor
Gone is the wick
Turned to ash
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