Holding Candle
Holding Candle
Holding on to the candle I was and I am,
burning, shattered, evaporated and retold.
Fired from both ends, the glaring candle
and I have come to, tired, incinerated rest.
From wild blazes on my inner screen,
from curse of the moulded heat
and molten wax, I am now waning for
a sparkling moon, the beams of the sun.
The porcelain base in tatters, broken
shards of fragments, a remnant of
what was, the fire had been too hot, the
turmoil now shrouded in volcanic ashes.
Imploded, explosive yesterdays, a jester
moping, mocking mascara’s delusion,
lost the gloss, a mere façade, a dissolution
Yet some glowing ember has remained
on empty smoking canvass, scorched in
black and grey like charcoal smouldering
Cast for change, another candle flickers, lies
in waiting, a mosaic of fragrant fracture incensed,
holding on, letting go, flaming and holding forth.
01st July 2017
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