Nine little candles Standing strong Against the wind Through the night for so long Three white candles Three extinguished toughened fighters Because one black candle Had to burn brighter The one black candle With all these tricks Blew out the three white candles And then there were six Six little candles Melting down But black candle's light is growing dimmer hope is no where to be found Black candle's not a candle now Now she's just a lit fuse When time runs out until the explosion Then she will know what it's like to lose Six little candles Has lost all but two The former black candle And one white candle left too But even flames can whisper rumors The burning fuse is done She lost the other eight white candles And then there was one.
If you took this poem literally instead of metaphorically, you are probably really REALLY confused...