Dedication: this is written for my brother.


The candle flickers near,

Its shape is gaunt from fear.

As I crush it with my palm,

The smoke will rise from afar.

Worthless, keep crying.

Worthless, keep on trying.

Or would it be easier to drown,

To kill your soul, or set a fire…

They say, you'll never be that hope,

You crushed that the flame not long ago.

So does the meaning still exist?

I don't think so…It never will.

Light that poor flame once more,

Listen to it growl, as your soul.

Let it blame you, or let it go,

Kill it 'til you bleed your own…