This slender stem”

the wax-imprisoned

soul

of candle’s being”

Ignited,

starts the

slow

descent

toward death;

Converting

its encasing flesh

to molten drops

that hang

like tears upon a cheek,

the painful price

of

making life

more

luminous.

Until”

substance spent,

cylindrical shell dissolved”

it makes its final peace

with night,

consumed

by its own passion

to shed

light.

Articles by Donald DeMarco

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