There is a room...

Woah! Talk about a turning point! Totally forgot about this one...enjoy!


There is a room
Holding only a candle
In a golden candlestick.
I enter
And sit facing the flame.
It beckons with a yellow hand.
I peer into its heart
Beating with a rhythm
Unmarked by a metronome.
I reach my hand out toward this flame;
It jumps,
And softly, the flame licks my fingers
Sending a warmth across my hand.
Pulling back I stand
Moving closer to the flame.
The warmth now flows through my body.
I grasp the stand
And raise the flame to my face.
My eyes close.
I take a deep breath;
My head lifts up,
Then the flames leap
From candle to flesh
Consuming the whole.
Only a wick
For its wretched game.
Simply another fooled mind
Entranced by the shimmering warmth
Of false devotion.