Right upon the moment
The wick catches
The room inhales
A single flame rises
Thin
Deliberate
Like a truth deciding
Whether to speak
Wax softens
Shadows kneel
The air glows the color
Of a whispered vow
You stand inside the hush
Watching the fire
Learn your name
Its small bright mouth
Opening and closing
As if tasting your story
And in that trembling light
Something old in you
Burns clean again
Not destroyed
But clarified
Like gold held
To the edge of heat
The candle keeps burning
So do you
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Author:
Anthony Hanible (
Offline) - Published: March 2nd, 2026 06:02
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 28
- Users favorite of this poem: Anthony Hanible, Demar Desu - 德马尔·德苏
Offline)
Comments2
Like a good poem, this one reads like either - a pyromaniacs handbook for suicide - or - a metaphor to cleanse the heart?
Intriguing.
Whether being refined or immolated the passage of fire has always been a defining process for change. Like tempering steel it hardens, it purifies. Well written
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