[ghost]: 200.Poetry.Candlelit Eyes

With piercing face and furrowed brow
A lit candle eyes do thus reflect
And, though it small, tis slow to bow
Before it's choice doth thus elect

This tiny flame atop its wick
And perched over a grand candle
Where it sleeps, stands, dances, sits
Looking over its wax made castle

Devoid of pathos, serene, but free
Even whilst held captive in its tower
And, though confined, still woe to thee
Who underestimates its power

And if it be thought petite, or weak
Or spoken, jests of its device
Because, while it is small, ‘tis meek
Then best to heed me this advice

Leave not that flame alone to wait
and Allow no patrons thus to come
No allies in this cause to aid
To gather in as all for one

For when combined, their rage grows dear
Grows size and heat each added friend
Consuming all that dare draw near
And all the while, base descends

Despite its rage, Despite its might
Despite its wrath, it's drunken state
Ignores all reminders of its plight
And stumbles blindly to its fate.

And when it fills, as full is forced
When hunger grew too large to keep
So that, when all had run its course,
‘Twas nothing left on which to feed

And thus it dies, all changed to worse
And in its wake lies desolation
And of them all, itself most hurt
Existence lost in isolation

So here no stands, this corpse left hollow,
A soul strewn to the elements
And blind to blind, the other follows
But in him find no recompense

Keep straight the path, and walk the light
Commit to mind, lest ye forget
To keep the end and means in sight
Be wary what thine eyes reflect.