The match has set aflame the light.
It is time for you to illuminate the night.
Cast dark shapes onto the wall,
I am short, my shadow’s tall
It is not time to scream or shout.
The wick is halfway out.
Red wax drips and pools.
At the base it shines like jewels.
Much too hot to touch.
It really is too much.
But the candle is burning stable
As it sits here on my table.
And I am starting to reckon
It’ll go out any second.
It keeps burning and I begin to doubt.
Then in an instant