The Last Dance | Sunday Observer

The Last Dance

Twists and curls
Stutters and flutters
A glow and a spark
The last dance of the flame
Ended suddenly.
The joy and warmth
Gone in a flash
With encompassing darkness
When the wick of the candle
Burned off completely
Leaving the molten wax
On the scarred
Tabletop.
To solidify again soon
Like the
Cherished memories
Of the past
With no use anymore
But so hard to wipe off
From the scarred face
Of the tabletop.

- Sasanka De Silva

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