Flicker

When every smidgen of daylight is suctioned away
Flashing in and out for minutes before a harsh zap
Headlamps and flashlights are scrounged out
From the depths of dark bins shoved away beneath
Batteries lost and unfit and complained over

In the deepest corner of blackness
Sits an unsightly cylinder of creamy wax
Darkness now having painted it stark midnight
Dribbles of memory licking its sheen surface
As it diminishes and shortens it represents
Reflections warped in time

Groaning and murmuring of electricity issues
Muffled beeps echoing from the phone
Power company to arrive in hours upon hours
Groaning and murmuring of electricity issues

Flashlights' batteries seceded to defeat
Headlamps succumbed along
Remember in the Stygian corner lies the candle
Unattractive and ugly and all

When the polished little lightbulbs
Lose their luster after years of gleaming glow
Out comes the dusty clump of wax and memory
From its classic little corner

Perhaps it doesn't glow
In the ideally manufactured shape
As bright as the whitest light in the night

Yet perhaps it holds and cherishes more
Than they could ever know
In its warped years of watching and waiting

And when finally drawn from the depths of darkness
It whispers through iridescent wings of orange-red
Naturally awakening something hidden in its glow
Something those delightful flashlights bury inside
Blocking it out with their quintessential glow

While the candle expels honesty of weaknesses
Through flashing flames
If the flashlights could fathom weaknesses
As strengths in reality
Only when strong enough to whisper

An ugly clump of waxy memories
So vulnerably warped in a good way
When offered just a little flame
Just a little

Flicker