Without lazy smoke

lingering above our heads,

As cold as stones covered

with night dew,

without the light

we were sent to give,

we are candles whose

wicks hold no flame,

not a flicker,

not a finger of light.

Without flames

our wax goes to waste

without love our hearts beat

yet make no sound.

Who are we without light?

Image Credit;

From up North

Article from

From up North

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