Like a candle that still burns,
wax falling slow like tears,
its trembling flame returns
to the darkness it fears.
Like a fire losing breath,
its smoke the only song—
a sigh, a cry, a death,
a fear that lingers long.
Like water in my hands,
it glimmers, then it dies;
it slips through fragile strands,
a truth the night denies.
Like drowning in the deep,
where beauty fades away,
the waves embrace, they keep
what light cannot repay.
Like wheels that crush a wing,
blood staining stone with red—
a cruel remembering
of flight now cold and dead.
Like swans who drift alone,
their vows reduced to air,
a name once carved in stone
lies hollow, stripped, and bare.
And so remains the girl,
beneath the midnight sky;
her sorrow forms a whirl,
her silence learns to cry.
She drowns while gazing still,
at beauty life lets go—
to lose what was not hers,
yet love what fades below.
Aug 16, 2025
Aug 16, 2025 at 6:06 PM UTC
Like a candle that still burns,
wax falling slow like tears,
its trembling flame returns
to the darkness it fears.
Like a fire losing breath,
its smoke the only song—
a sigh, a cry, a death,
a fear that lingers long.
Like water in my hands,
it glimmers, then it dies;
it slips through fragile strands,
a truth the night denies.
Like drowning in the deep,
where beauty fades away,
the waves embrace, they keep
what light cannot repay.
Like wheels that crush a wing,
blood staining stone with red—
a cruel remembering
of flight now cold and dead.
Like swans who drift alone,
their vows reduced to air,
a name once carved in stone
lies hollow, stripped, and bare.
And so remains the girl,
beneath the midnight sky;
her sorrow forms a whirl,
her silence learns to cry.
She drowns while gazing still,
at beauty life lets go—
to lose what was not hers,
yet love what fades below.
