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Candlelight Vigil MAG
My palms are up, to feel the touch of listless air
Sifting through an endless abyss of melancholy
So empty and consuming, suffocating and colorless
There used to be color: Bright, gold, warm
The world lit up by a determined soul, a gallant flame
Proud, strong, steady
Fiery power resting in my hands, but soft, kind, substantial. There
And I stand away watching, foreverwatching
As lines and cracks form on the smooth wax
The beauty vanishing, the flame dimming
So close, I held out my hands, and they burned
So close, I kept steady, yet my touch wavered. Useless
The rain started, picking up speed
Cold, harsh bullets beating it down
The light, the warmth, the hope.
I tried to shield the flame but the drops showed no mercy
Seeping, rolling, falling through my hair and skin
A final breath of air, a final burst of heat
It's fading, forever fading
My palms are up in surrender. I'm lost
Suffocating, colorless
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