Candlelit
i.
In the desolate river that once held my peace,
It held me, coaxed me, told me to be at ease.
It kept me, embraced me in the shades of red,
This flame made me stand away from my bed,
So that I’d venture past the tears I shed.
While I fought dragons in my bed asleep,
I fought my well-kept words when I awoke.
But today, after I slew the dragons,
I sought a golden thread through oblivion.
Led me to a bar, a beauty criterion.
I watched from the glass dome afar,
Then I looked at the people; they were
Drunk in love, poets sang poems in a blur.
They swung sonnets like blades in battle,
And their clocks went out ticking in a rattle.
ii.
They were drunk on dirty drinks by the fires.
He was a poet, unlike me, a madman.
The candle was so much greater as a fighter;
It was the folk that guided him higher.
That was when he wrote, his words burned fire.
The candle stood tall in its dimly lit stature.
It lit the heart when you do fall in love,
But it burns too harshly, too great to measure.
He charmed the candle, fostered the ember.
They kept him waiting, standing forever.
iii.
After it ended and the air turned cold,
He lay upon the soft wooden floor.
His shape forms his mold, as he
Stared eye to eye with the candle.
It was his only guide through every gamble.
He whispered to it like it was his friend.
It held the same, but with a tint of red.
It’s flame lit him when he wrote, after all.
The candle knew secrets that he had hidden
Even when he was a tiger, a kid.
And I sat there like a crude bug,
Silent, as I was guilty of choking
Life out of a man, like it was a hug.
Then I touched the candle’s burnt knife,
It told me I’ll climb to heaven in time.
Copyright © Celio Somerset | Year Posted 2026
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