the room is dark but my face is bright,
candle wicks glow with a soft gleaming light,
my mouth forms an o, a moment of wonder,
and darkness comes again, until next year yonder.
and when next year comes, ill feel the heat again,
one more candle is lit, and snow turns to rain,
and people turn cruel, though it brings them no prize,
and the rich just get richer, pure wealth blinding their eyes,
as all those in need begin growing in number,
and all those with greed become dumber and dumber,
as the world slowly burns down, something familiar,
I’ll blow out my candles, humanity growing disfigured.