Flickering Flame.

Photo by Paul Bulai

A tiny flame from a simple candle gives life to stories locked inside the mind and soul.

Thank You!

Ink spills against papyrus.

A thin and fragile,
Blade of warmth,
Flickering against the wind,
Leaving lengthy shadow, dancing on the wall.

Smoke inside my chest,
Leaving body,
Directed by the sound of a heart,
Reflected by the vessel of the blood.

Ink spills against papyrus,
Words combine in tango,
Searching for the companion to match.

He broke his promise,
Busy running after shadow,
Visible, yet impossible to touch.

Promised will be back,
When the sun will kiss goodbye,
For the last time.

She is running from the error of his ways,
Exploring endless desert packed with mountains of sin.
Primal language of this planet,
Imprinted with the mark of the galaxy above.

Fragile flame froze still,
Standing upright for the last time,
Before evaporating into the thinnest string of smoke.

Tiny flame illuminating the story.

Please let me know what you think of the poem on Twitter @FischerVladimir

3 thoughts on “Flickering Flame.”

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