Aug 22, 2019
Candle Wick
An empty room filled with empty lies, it's four walls will stand with faint but dark lines
A fading candle that arches its spine, waiting to burn out its flame and die.
While the flame fills the dark room with an eerie gleam; a warm golden tint that feels like a dream
The lower it burns, the slower time seems, the fainter the light, a different dream
A fake horizon without a sky, no end to the start, no start of time
The light is gone, while time remains, black emptiness begins its phase
Is this the price we're forced to pay? A spiralling hole of pain and dismay?
A blackened wick without a flame.
A colourless soul with nothing to blame.