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After a long day of making candles, the candle maker decides to bring a candle to life as he rests for the evening. After some time the candle begins to talk and asks the candle maker what its purpose is. The candle maker let out a slight chuckle and says, “Isn’t it obvious?”

The candle feels a bit disappointed by the answer and decides to reword the question, “Why did you light me if you are only going to ***** me out?”

The candle maker realizes that the candle doesn’t know its true nature and decides to tell the candle its true purpose. He moves the candle to a table next to a window and parts the curtains. “See the stars way up there? Some of them already stopped giving light, but from here, I can still see them.”

The candle’s light flickers for a moment and says, “But I’m a small light, nobody is going to see me.”

The candle maker smiles and says, “You’re missing the point. It doesn’t matter if your light is dull in comparison to a star. What does matter is that light is infinite and even though your wick is snuffed, your light will go on forever. You see, light moves in and out of small things to give them energy and then escapes fully intact. It’s the key to life. Without it movement would cease. So you see little candle, your light is important and will never vanish.”

The candle wanes as the night progresses and then finally says, “Thank you candle maker for giving me life. I know it’s about time for me to go.”

The candle maker smiles and says, “Bless you little candle as you journey through smaller things.” The candle maker pulls air into his lungs deep and exhales over the little candle’s flame and says, “Good light little candle. Good light.”
You know not where my feet have gone
But judge me none the less
Assuming I’m your battle pawn
You choose to second guess

From beaten and to broken
You scoff at all my pain
You take it as a token
You take it as your gain

You call out names to break me
You taunt me with your threats
You think God has forsaken me
With that, I’d place no bets

I do not fear your tactics
The truth shall come to light
Revealed through all your antics
Revealed through all your spite

You may have fooled the masses
By putting on an act
But I can see through glasses
That are not tainted black

Your solemn act of innocence
Is soon to be dispelled
You assumed that I was ignorant
And easily compelled

The fact that you have judged me
Before you know the facts
Speaks volumes of dishonesty
Of things you can’t redact

When caught in this deception
The gavel slams down hard
Not honored with reception
Your voice they will discard
Two shovels are lighter
Than a ton of baggage
One to bury hurts
One to bury guilt

Bury the hurts deep
But still remember
Learn from the past
Learn for the future

Bury the guilt deeper
So it doesn’t cause harm
Become a better person
Becomes a better world

Two shovels are lighter
Bury all the baggage
Let the heart find love
Let the past rest in peace
Is darkness and evil synonymous?
Is light and good synonymous?
Two contrary modes of being
Exist for the artist's eye

Before light was formed – darkness
Before good was formed – evil
If darkness and evil were firstborn
Then they are the artist’s canvas

From this canvas light can bloom
From this canvas good can form
Without it light would have no value
Without it good would have no shape

It’s easy to leave the canvas blank
Never to paint a stroke
It’s harder to paint the color of good
But worth it to see the light
How deep does the dread go?
As deep as the fear goes
How far does the fear go?
Much deeper than the shadow

With a pick and torch light
Find the gem that will shine bright
May be day in this sun blight
In the dread it is midnight

Keep the flames burning ember
For the chill of December
For the hope to remember
For the dread to dismember

Only light burns the dread fear
Only light makes the path clear
When the light sparks the dread jeers
When the gem gleams the dread veers

Who knows where the gem grows?
In the hollow of the shadows
In the dark where the dread goes
In a place only hope knows
Wrestling dreams twist my thoughts
Thoughts morph to spinning chaos
Chaos moves towards strangling order
Order feeds my wrestling dreams

Words that slander burn like fire
Fire is hungry never full
Full is the angry tongue
Tongue thirsts for words that slander

Vengeful heart will lose its’ love
Love forgives but may remember
Remember love, forget to hate
Hate consumes the vengeful heart

Repeating past will ruin future
Future should be free of past
Past is meant to stay behind
Behind I’ll be, repeating past
Empty space
Alone I stand
Without a face
Without a plan

Heart of pain
Tatters dreams
Salty rain
Spills in streams

Shade of night
Shallow breath
Soul in blight
Lurking death

Turn the mind
See the face
Join my kind
Keeping pace

Making dreams
Spin anew
Binding seams
Me and you
Lies spoken
Ties broken
Puddled eyes
Muddled cries

Life growing
Strife moaning
Puddled eyes
Muddled cries

Born fighting
Scorn biting
Puddled eyes
Muddled cries

Chasing hate
Facing fate
Puddled eyes
Muddled cries

New path
***** wrath
Laughing eyes
Happy cries
Less than a shadow to eye
Less than a whisper to ear
Less than satin to skin
Less than the smell of fog
Less than a taste of water
This is how you make me feel

More than the sun to eye
More than thunder to ear
More than fire to skin
More than the smell of hyacinth
More than a taste of peppers
This is how I imagine you

The balance is off
Fantasy has wreaked its' havoc
Truth is I’m more than this
Truth is you’re less than this
The balance is on
Anger starts off as something simple brought on by hurt, but if the hurt is set over the fire of jealousy, it begins to stir up like a wind and sandblasts away all common sense. It is the wrinkle in the fabric of memory that twists into the depths of things long forgotten setting into motion a dissipating hope that can soon vanish into nothingness.

She must subdue her anger and swim towards the calming shore of enlightenment before the anger consumes her. Can she stand like a tall tree and battle her emotions and slay the emerald eyed monster that’s wounded her by its thorny claws?

I hear her cry but not for me. I swim like the fish in the sea of commitment caught up in the rhythm of every day life. If she would look my way she would find a new beginning and she’d finally tame anger and keep it in its cage.

My name is Love and I course through the lives of everyone who has hope; like blood through the veins. Death happens without me and the body becomes a walking corpse. I call to her but she doesn’t hear me as she spins helplessly in a void where nothing takes shape.

I know she can sense me deep within her chest when she spies a glimmer of hope but her anger hides it in her rage. Her hope moves like sand through an hourglass of bitterness and the last grain is getting close to falling. Her eyes are covered with a shroud of deception and her hope is lost in the darkness.

Suddenly she searches for me and I come – her frozen heart melts and the hourglass shatters – her hope no longer captive. Her thoughts begin to float into a safe harbor where she slays the tall green eyed monster and removes its thorny ******.

Her tears flow like honey sticking to her cheeks as she cries like a newborn baby. Her heart is free and the red wounds heal with time as she begins to weave a hope filled life. New memories are stitched with bad to form a hero’s tapestry to be displayed in honor and not in shame. All who escape the clutches of hate are the victors. All who find me and keep me are given the strongest power known – love.
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