There in the Blotted Out Ink

Fury sets fire to the pages
Tears blot the ink of what was there
Loneliness blows out the candles
Already almost melted away
Will my blinded fury set fire
To the remaining wicks, now
Mere stubs of what was?
Or will it stay hidden,
Setting flames
only to my heart?
But what becomes of my heart
When it's own wax melts away?
Will a small wick remain?
Does loneliness truly blow out the candles,
Or does it set them further ablaze?
Will the candles burn my pages?
My precious creations
So close to my soul...
Or will the dripping wax
Make a picture in
The hollow darkenss?
No one will see it
But the candles know it's there...
And when those flames
The flames of my heartache
Bring light again
I will finally see the picture
But only as it melts away.
And when my heart calms,
The flames become a soft glow...
Only then will my heart see the picture
Only then will my loneliness end

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It may not make any sense to you, but this got my through a really rough night. And I don't want to lose it.