The Edge of One and Other

A candle burns beside the void, its flame a soft and stubborn cry— a whisper warm, the dark destroyed, but shadows bloom as sparks pass by. A beggar sleeps beneath a sign that sells a watch of diamond face; time moves, but stillness redefines what wealth can mean in empty space. A cradle rocks, a coffin rests— life weeps its first, then final sound. The morning sun on grieving chests makes gold of loss against the ground. A mirror shows both youth and lines, a grin within a furrowed frown. In silence, laughter intertwines— the upside of each breaking down. So night and day must touch to turn, and wrong walks closely with what's right. We breathe to burn, we burn to learn— and joy is stitched with threads of fright.