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Musing: Candle Light

Night falls
Sleep calls

My candle light dance, hovering madly before me
Careless of its nakedness, careless of her waywardness
Yet there was very little wind here, rather a swift breeze
Coming now and then, but the candle light danced

The corner of the room stood, darkened behind me
My silhouette forming a union with the dark
And the night one of quiet loneliness, resourcefulness

Now the pen dance with the wind and candle light
The papers are bleeding with ink, fine and some obscure
Underwhelmed with the burden of a switching breeze
And the candle light which knew little but dance…

And so on… So the night is quiet but the pen aint!

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