Candle speaks molten wax
cascading upon the burning brass.
Flame trembles sideways
like an ocean's swaying tides
to host spectral ambiance
as the black smoke subsides.

Candle weaves autumn scents
wavering about the tenement.
Tables covered in crumpled paper
where solitary thoughts are marred
in essence, beauty, and fragility
as the black wick is charred.

Candle breathes a mellow light
flickering in the frigid night;
there's winter white strewn
on the pine-shaded lawn.
Lamppost corona hides
as black trees greet the dawn.

Candle gleams like lighthouse glow,
the beacon of my solemn home,
guiding paper boats from wreck,
and luring lost ideas ashore.
Heartbeat holds the harmonic key
yet my weary mind has no door.