
A candle burns within the mind’s dim hall,
Its fragile flame recalls a brighter day;
Though shadows stretch, I still can see it all,
The laughter lost, yet echoing away.
The glow of love once held in steady hands
Now flickers faint beneath the weight of years;
It warms the heart, yet gently reprimands,
A tender light that mingles joy with tears.
At dawn I rise to greet the empty air,
At dusk I dream of what the dark conceals;
Between the two, your ghost is waiting there,
Half wound, half balm, a truth that sorrow seals.
So dark and light together weave their thread,
And make your memory a lamp for dead.



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