The Dim Candle

A small glow, a dim candle lit.
Its weak flame flickering
Above melted wax
And quenched flax.

Why does this flame,
Phantom and frail, yet
Strong and determined,
Continue to burn?

Why does the the flame,
Persists without the candle,
Seeing the impossibility
Of things that cannot be?

Why will it not perish,
As so many have before it,
To fade and be forgotten
Into darkness and oblivion?

The wind blows cruelly,
The real banishing the imaginary,
But look, the flame remains un-wavered.
Ah. a small glow, a dim candle lit.