The Flame of the Fifth Man
When failure burned out, faith lit the way
Five men set forth through storm and sand,
To seek a candle, old and grand.
It burned, they said, with mystic light,
That turned the darkest soul to right.
The first man fell to greed’s desire,
He built his camp of gold and fire.
But coins can’t light a heart so dim,
The candle hid itself from him.
The second sought it out with pride,
His voice of thunder shook the tide.
Yet power fades when mercy dies,
The candle closed its gleaming eyes.
The third man mocked, “It’s just a tale!”
He drank till reason turned to pale.
Dreams die in doubt, he lost the way,
The candle slept till break of day.
The fourth man wept and turned around,
Too weak to climb the cursed ground.
For fear can freeze the bravest heart,
And tear all courage clean apart.
But the fifth man — calm and kind,
Carried hope within his mind.
He lit no torch, he spoke no claim,
Just whispered truth — and saw the flame.
The candle glowed, the night grew still,
A warmth beyond the mortal will.
He took no gold, no pride, no fame —
But left the world a brighter name.
About the Creator
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