It was unwinding, like a light on a candle
Fighting to keep the flame burning when
The wick had run out.

Can you outrun life, death, never
Tried till now. But I walked, It was
A flickering existence, we had jumped
The flame once too often and now it
Was our time to be blown out.

"Hold my hand"
"Please hold me tight"

I didn't know these men, woman on
There knees as touching the earth helped,
Tears, screaming at the wind, its ending
They'd scream, but I was in the distance
Leaving those to their maddening self chatter.

It was an amazing sight, the end was bright
Like dominos building fell,
"Paper in the wind was everything else"
Cinders fell as parched winds blew, I had ran,
Then walked. my last view of the world
Was a billboard?
"THE END IS PAST ITS SELL BY DATE"
I laughed as my existence turned to **dust.

She was an excited little thing
Always running around you
couldn't miss her. She would
Sneeze and the fire brigade would
come and douse her out she
Was a little fire *******.

She was always full of flare
The ones she shot in to the air,
Children loved her displays,
As they would shoot upon the
Heavens and explode into a
Million stars for moments the
sky was alive with fire.

She lit the heaters of the towns
Folk, to keep them warm in winter.
But she was so alone the last of
The little missus, who's flame
Always burnt brighter.

"Little miss fire hazard" grew majestic
And loved by towns folk and those
Lucky enough too meet her, but she
Passed as all things do, but too this
Day a flame still burns bright never
Does it flicker, it burns bright forever
More as generation down the line, the
Towns folk remember and *miss her.

A single candle glows,
In a shadowed room,
The warmth it gives out,
Does little against the gloom.

The flame has burnt for so long,
It's begun to feel the strain,
The wax and wick are burning low,
An end to light's long reign.

The feeble glow begins to die,
Reflected dimly in the glass,
Of windows showing only dark,
The final night at last.

It clings on for as long as it can,
Though by now weak and frail,
Its fuel is used up, no longer it shines,
And inevitably, it fails.

With a slow, painful splutter,
The flame flickers and fades,
The last light goes out,
Marking an end to these charades.

Your leeward left lays
steeped in shadows,
as a perfect line flickers
outlining your silhouette.
Incandescent light makes
porcelain of your skin.
Its honest touch embraces
you with artificial moonbeams,
airbrushed and pale.
I watch your chest rise,
as you inhale the
atmosphere you have
created with your presence.

Not all love stories get the 'happily ever after.'
Some leave you breathless
Or crying
A few may have you scratching your head
'Really? All that for what?'
Love between two people can even have all of that combined.
There is a single flame inside every human being on this entire planet.
It flickers inside ourselves,  randomly choosing to be on or off throughout our lifetime, only it never brightens--
lacking the spark that increases the radiance of the fire.
When two people have a spark, their souls for a moment connect as an invisible whispering,  twirling as a dance of lovers.
There are those that never see it.
Some try to use the flicker as real love.
Yet incompleteness is inevitable!
There is a hole in the soul left by the one your soul danced with, or your fire longs for.
Live as though your fire is lit, and sooner or later it will be

"A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle"-James Keller

Use of heat
engulfs your ends
Into a splintered crisp.
Every inch you sear
Irons out the curls in your mane.

Flick the lighter,
Spark up some magic
And bring that
Shy, crying ember
To your dry lips.
The harder you inhale,
The faster you burn.

Smoke sneaks around
Your body and
Encapsulates you in
A hazy plume.
The scorch marks on your arm
Emphasizes your need
For warmth.

You seem to think you’re
A phoenix by how often
You play with flames,
But how high will you rise?

Will the ashes you’ve left
behind provide you with
a rebirth
or purge you into
the hearth forever?

How long will your eyes
Stay ignited,
Because every time you
Play with snowflakes,
You become a dimly lit,
Sputtering flicker.

They cut down trees to build major cities,
to pave new roads.
What happens to the people?
They cut down trees in our hearts,
pave roads for themselves.
They build cities with their names in lights.
But what happens when they leave?
The cities become abandoned,
the lights begin to flicker.
They've permanently built a city in your heart,
making your blood pump thicker.
People come and go,
but the ones you truly remember,
are those whose lights still flicker,
even after they've been gone forever.