Dripping slowly through time,
the scent of better days fades,
used up essence of good memories old,
gone with the wind...
Time plunging into darkness.
Like the sun receeding from its perch,
this wax melts, and the candle dims and flickers,
casting dancing shadows on the wall,
bringing a foreboding sense of doubt to the night.
This pure white wax,
soon used up and melted,
sending us into darkness,
but always there—
an antique of time,
and a treasure box of memories and secrets,
kept well hid.
