The flame that spurned the darkness.

The uncertainty of tomorrow, the doubt of yesterday,

The fretting for what could be, what could be the way?

The air was tight, within the night, with a lamp that swayed despite,

To wage a fight, with faith despite, a defiant flame, unyielding light,

Through winds that howled against it of what would come to pass,

Gathering, to grow in strength, like animals that charge in mass,

The chilling touch of winter's chill through hours to then delay,

The dawn to rise upon the east and hope to then relay,

What was it, about that fire? Despite the scorn or shame?

What was it about its defiance? Of the shadow amidst the flame?

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