The candle that flickers last lights the room
in dimness. Creepers lurk in quiet corners,
down empty halls, through crimson curtains,
muffling and hiding whispering warners.
The candle that flickers last breathes a sigh,
heats the skin that devils prick.
But glowing embers can't hid this flame
that floats lonely atop wax and wick.
The candle that flickers last goes out.
Ghostly fibers of smoke rise,
cobalt threads swirl to the ceiling
and enhance the disguise.
Shattered shards of glass.
Dark dispersing fast.
Iridescent mask.
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