Stupid David

Well, David was being an idiot (rrr) and when he read burning, he told me I should post it. so here it is-

Slowly incinerating the wick,
the flame on the end of the candle dances,
moving to the rhythm of the screaming of souls,
eternally ablaze in the consuming fire of imperfection.
Shadows flit back and forth,
all over the walls,
on your face, obliterating some of those streaks
caused by tears falling from illuminated eyes.
Eyes aflame with a light,
though not the one on the candlestick,
but a light within, the light of your soul, your being,
flickering in and out of existence.
Altering between life and
if you can truly call it that
with a single sigh, with a simple well-placed tear,
gone in a breath.
A small light on which much is depending,
understanding, knowledge, all reliant on the light shed,
for beyond lies darkness, adarkness so deep,
containing anathemas we can't begin to fathom.

Burn on little candle,
you are my only hope.
and if you die,
I die with you.

Burn on,
lest you burn out.

©Julie Pyle, 2005

N e way, not much has been happening, the power was out yesterday for a while. that was fun. that was actually when I wrote Burning.
Today is the cast party, Jesal, Ari, and I are going, it should be fun.
there isn't that much to write about, so i'll write when I get home.