Candle
The candle decked
In a garb of conchshell white,
Poised upon a stand of
burnished bronze,
While casting his light
Across the chamber in waywardness,
Addressed the darkness beyond
The reach of luminosity
In a tone of braggadocio,
"With intent to dissolve the obscurity,
Why not take a plunge
Into my deluge of light?"
Replied the darkness
In a tone subdued,
"Herken to my submission O'candle,
Your flamy crown
And the attendant glory
Is short lived.
The flame is burning progressively
The wax accumulated,
Realization has, seemingly, not
Dawned upon you,
That when the wax is spent,
Your flame Vanishes with its refulgence,
And you cease to exist.
Darkness would
Once again reign.
I prefer to remain in obscurity,
Than the feel
Of the temporary refulgence.
H. Kamal Premadasa |
