Day 166: Light

The candle flame is the only protection from the dark. 

Climbing up these old wooden steps, each creaking step carrying the weight,

Of steps made heavy by regret and fear. 

I no longer have the will to protect the flame

From the cold wind, that chases me with 

Whispers of lost paths and loves. 

Letting cupped hands fall,

I watch the flame dance in the wind

Frantically fighting to survive,

Flickering and fanning

To face the shadows created. 

(C) Manivillie Kanagasabapathy 

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