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Candle
Flames flickered as the candle’s light
Touched the chilling breath of night
Shadows danced around with no sound
Bottle of ink filled with nightshade
Sleeps under the moonlight
A quill soft as a dream is held by a figure half immersed in darkness
Waiting for the elixir of thoughts
As the clock struck twelve
With great haste the figure dips the
quill in the nightshade
And jotted something on a piece of paper
Under the candle’s light words are born out
Oh! Candle tell me how many people have
written history under your might
Honorable Mention in:
Your Choice J Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Copyright ©
Adarsh K S
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