Flames Burn Everyone
Our lives are all candles
burning holy and whole.
The wind is our foe;
it makes the danger
of being extinguished grow.
We all melt nice and slow
if we all hide inside.
But what good is a candle
when no one can see its light,
no one can feel its heat,
and no one can learn
from the lessons it learned
from all the times it got lit
and all the times it got burned?
Paraffin, soy,
lavender smell,
drip-less, pillar,
birthday, spell.
We all treasure our light
in full-frontal war
or way out of sight;
the gale will always get us
during the day or by night.
Either way,
candles are made to burn
until they run out of wax,
until they’re one with the wind,
and they can finally relax.