A waning desire is still a desire. Maybe it isn’t as harmful at the outset. Perhaps even innocently you dare imagine its worst impact. And it was bearable. Because alone, it can be contained.
A lone flicker in the dark, sparked by a willingness to know, the curiosity of the adorable feline. And the flicker glowed till it burned. It burned till it raged. And raging fires are mad men’s delights. It is the corruption of innocent curiosity in the name of exposure.
And say the flicker doesn’t catch, then it is extinguished prematurely while it was designed to light another lone wax…
Till we’re cold bodies lying in the dark, hoping for a lone flicker to remind us what our faces were like.
Now, darkness is no better than madness. And our fate is sealed either way. Because fire either rages or burns out unless we pass on in similar fashion what we have gained.
Prompt: Candle
