Flickering its flames,
Driving the darkness,
Pleasing the straightforward
And paining the black-hearted,
It ends itself for others,
Only after instilling life in them.
Inspires and inspires all with its endeavors,
Fighting a lonely, ‘black’ battle
With no cartridge but courage.
But alas! All in vain!
None prefers the white path,
Black despair captures all.
And for its own self, it’s nothing
But sheer masochism:
The niggling pain, an aching joy.
Amazing! Never heartbroken,
With renewed vigor rather,
It still acts, like Keats’ nightingale,
Infusing the life-warmth in others.
Hope springs eternal in its heart.
Perhaps, it’s fallen for Life’s satiety!
Will I follow its path in my life?
Will I merge my life-flame into its?
I’m scared, for, Hamlet peeps throu’ the curtain.