PREVIOUS THOUGHTS

The Candle

I am like a lit candle,

With the flame my soul,

Sometimes it burns so brightly

It illuminates the faces of those near;

Sometimes it flickers,

And wanes in the wind,

And lessens its glow.

As the candle burns

The flame becomes a larger proportion of the whole,

The candlestick lessens with age;

Shortening.

The wax still remains,

But has reformed, changed shape.

And when the candle reaches it's end

It stops burning;

The flame has gone,

But it is not out.....