Flickering candle,
Nearly depleted by the rapidity of thoughts,
Unable to remain peacefully still, 
Half cloaked in shadow, half exposed,
Projecting your glow against the rigid walls of night.

I, too, feel the weight of lament -
Lingering between warmth and scent. 
Tracing the contours of a silhouette. 
Suspended between the delicate space of awareness and carelessness.
A spirited fervor forced to quietly surrender.

The light has long since faded.
When you clawed to stay lit
against the thread of your wick.

Now all you need is a soft exhale,
A whisper blown ℎ𝑢𝑠ℎℎℎ.
Your flame will someday be reignited.
But for now, sleep, dear candle. 
The day is done.