• A fire dances upon a candlestick
    Moves like a ghost atop the candle’s wick.
    Bending and twisting and twirling like smoke
    So fragile, the softest breeze could provoke.

    It glistens and glimmers like and orb in the night
    Softly and soundly, does nothing to spite.
    Its peaceful existence is rendered unseen
    Its wisdom and knowledge is nothing but keen.

    Dancing through darkness, caressing the air
    Turning so freely without a care.
    Whispering secrets into the wind
    As though it were a long lost friend.

    Night becomes bitter, the air is still
    The little flame, ensnared by a chill
    Dwindling slowly into dark
    Until it is nothing but a spark.

    Fading away, the end drawing nigh
    Its last essence curls up toward the sky.
    Smothered by dampness and stifled by death
    It flickers out the final breath.

    Its ghostly whispers can still be heard
    Softly among us, like the twitter of a bird.
    For always and forever, its presence is there
    Dancing like fire, a flame, a flare.