The flame is borne tonight: a candle burns
In solitude for all that’s sacred, all
That’s beautiful. As dreams to ashes turn,
My words from want and recollection fall,
While yours still linger in our darkened world;
The embers now are few, aglow within
My grasp as fireflies whose wings are furled
In resignation. Weary bones begin
To petrify, so long have I withstood
The ache of love’s enduring martyrdom,
If only to attend the flame that would
Await you should the end of sorrow come.
And if I yearned in vain, at least you knew
That someone burned in solitude for you.