The Candle Which Speaks

In the room they provide my light
They stand there and shine so bright
The wick slowly begins to burn
A blissful feeling we all once yearn
The flame at the top gradually grows
And in this room they're free to compose
Forming the orange and yellow flame
Creating a sense that they are tame
Then splitting in two as the wax starts to fall
Creating a sensation that the world is cruel
Why do they both have to depart?
Ripped from each other; an evil art
How can one stick with a flame on the end
Make these feelings comprehend
For something as beautiful as this
Soon runs out of the peaceful bliss
Left with the vision that nothing will last
And things are soon just left in the past
But then the wax will once again harden
And re grow like flowers in the garden
In a new shape they fight back once more
Is this a message that there's always a cure
Once again ready to be lit
Ready with themselves to commit
The candles seem to have more knowledge than I
For knowledge about life they can supply
Regenerating themselves to once again fade
Forming their colourful crusade
Then blow them out I must do
And give them their freedom that was overdue.