This candle was so warm.
Though the flame be small.
The way it warms my soul, causes a warmth through my all.
Yet my fears creep as it begins to flicker.
My heart drops upon its last ember.
What is now the sorrowful memory through the smokes whisper.
My hearts drops rapid as the hope dwindles.
It drops even further with each failed rekindle.
With each doubtful conclusion reaching denial's dismissal.
I see the answer but I will not draw upon it.
For if I do, my needs of the flame, I shall wrong it.
Yet I know it can't be hidden, the truth can only be exploited.
The more painfully aware I am the more I try to avoid it.
The ability to rekindle is no longer my own.
Destiny has chosen for me to be cold and alone.