L.Callow

The light

made from a single spark. 

A spark from the flame

so bright,

so warm,

so perfect, 

burning on the candle

so innocent,

so pure. 

The spark kept going

as the candle cried

until she was consumed

as the flame burned 

unaware

that his time with her was about end.

The stronger they burned,

the faster their end came.

Unfortunately,

the candle burned to consumption.

The flame wasn't far apart,

but another candle fostered the flame,

leaving the first candle.

He continued to burn

in the arms of another,

while she was left in the dark,

used, consumed,

dead.

But she was happy

because for a moment

he burned with her;

he burned for her;

he loved her.

-L.Callow