That last day with you,
the sunset in your eyes,
a moment so delicate,
like a candle in the wind.
Though the candle flames
behind your eyes had been
pinched by the ice-cold
fingers of death.
A candle in the darkness,
the flamelight of your formless
spirit. We all need darkness
to see the flames of our souls.
We all have candles burning within
an unbodied soul, whose flamelight
chases away the darkness of death,
which otherwise consumes us.
Now through your shut,
unlighted eyes, the candle wicks
cold and black, no flame
of any soul is immortal.
