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In his study

Sits a solemn candelabra.

It's been burning now for weeks.

Do you not know how the story goes?



It's rumored that somewhere

Deep within his emotion tumors

Lies the power to light -

Ignite fire

And the such.

Or so the fable goes.

I know that much.



This one holds exactly six

Candlesticks.



At the very dawn of his breath

There lay lit only one.

No doubt ignited by the Sun -

Timeless power symbolizing

Birth.

Fire -

Giver of life

Illuminating this earth.



Back to him though.

Every time he smiles

A flicker starts

And the next candle in line

Begins to shed the dark

As it lights up so divine.

Careful though.

Along the end tip of the final candle

Lies a curtain edge along the bookshelf window just begging to be lit.

And so he must dismantle

All his joy

And shed a tear

When it's too much too handle.



And every crying fit

Dissolves the latest candle lit

Until they all are out

And all his fears and doubts

Hopes and dreams

Are washed obscure

And he's drowned himself to death

In one too many cries so pure...



In his study

Sits a solemn candelabra.

It's been burning now for weeks

And how he lives in constant struggle

Bringing to light

All the balances that he must juggle.