Sadness rises up into the air,
as gray wisps of smoke.
Floating far away,
fading to nothing.
Forgotten memories
of the past,
leaving us to move on.
The flame,
bright and comforting,
keeping us going,
reminding us that:
Tomorrow will be a better day,
as bright as the fire,
full of opportunity
for us to grasp
and make the best of.
Wax melts away,
dripping,
falling to the ground,
those we lose along the way.
No longer with us,
never to be forgotten.
The wick
burning away slowly.
Once it’s gone,
we’re no more.
Rendered useless.
Ready to be thrown away.
We’re forgotten.