• nygnal 6w

    Of {Etherealities}

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    Candle wick

    A candle burns so bright and true
    In its solitude, it continually glows
    Tempting winds may try and blow
    Its light will flicker but dance its own
    the glory of a candle though
    Lies on the Candlemaker alone.
    He sculpts and moulds
    And pour the wax
    Determines the size and shape
    Into a lovely design
    The wick, of choiced length and width
    Is also decided by the One making.
    Must it not be forgotten, too
    A candle shines only when lighted up
    By the One holding the Fire
    And so a candle lives
    Its existence for its purpose:
    To light is to give
    And to live is to give light
    Burning silently amidst the shadows
    A candle melting oh so slow
    As no more wax left to drip
    The final embers glow its brightest
    when its candle wick is close to nothing more.