In the molten wax of my burning,
burn I, a wick unquestioning,
seeking but to spread the light,
pondering not my rights,
nor my freedom of choice.
I suffer, as I give myself
in tormented self-immolation,
to make your moments a memory,
blind beyond the shadows you cast,
you live remembering only the light.
In the prime of my life,
you snatched me from my being,
a petal at a time,
you plucked out of me,
crushing me, you savored my fragrance,
which I gave to the world, liberally.
In the beauty of my being,
I gave joy to those who see me,
in seeking to possess me,
why then have you destroyed me?
© 2018, Charlie Bottle. All rights reserved. © 2009 www.coelhos.us All Rights Reserved