The Candle'S Death

There, stood a tiny yet brightening
Flickering beam of hope.
In the midst of all, when the turbulent lightening
Was the hardest battle to cope.

It shone over the perilous light
Emanating as much power and feeding strength
Into the spooky and dreadful beckoning
Of the death patient and waiting its act, beneath.

The white smooth coating oozed away in toil
And there, at the bottom in a waxy puddle, it lay.

In came, the stormy disaster of a wind
Thrashing its hurdles into the air and sounding quite classy; ping!
Blowing out the last bit of flame in madness
Thus, amidst the horrible silence bringing on the inevitable - the dark.

No more. No more of the light, no more of hope.
Alone and brutal, the cold bitter truth of death
Has found its way into the light!