The Candle

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A candle on the water burning bright
The only light for miles and miles around
The fishes swim around it through the night
When shining nothing else is as profound
But soon the candle flickers from a wind
The hardened wax is made to slip a bit
Most still admire, though some are caused to bend
The wax is still the only thing that's lit
The spark falters freely on liquid glass
More candles appear in the starry dark
The first candle's reputation has passed
The molten wax slips, the doom is quite stark
The light is swallowed by the moving lake
The confidence has now been caused to break





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