Holding Candle

Holding Candle Holding on to the candle I was and I am, burning, shattered, evaporated and retold. Fired from both ends, the glaring candle and I have come to, tired, incinerated rest. From wild blazes on my inner screen, from curse of the moulded heat and molten wax, I am now waning for a sparkling moon, the beams of the sun. The porcelain base in tatters, broken shards of fragments, a remnant of what was, the fire had been too hot, the turmoil now shrouded in volcanic ashes. Imploded, explosive yesterdays, a jester moping, mocking mascara’s delusion, lost the gloss, a mere façade, a dissolution Yet some glowing ember has remained on empty smoking canvass, scorched in black and grey like charcoal smouldering Cast for change, another candle flickers, lies in waiting, a mosaic of fragrant fracture incensed, holding on, letting go, flaming and holding forth. 01st July 2017