Candles are lit more often than you want them
These days, and used differently
Than intended,
Although mentioned less,
And we’re left to cast long doubtful shadows
Over the things we haven’t done,
As we wonder
Who stumbled upon them,
Because we can’t understand these concepts,
Even when they’re explained to us
In plain terms
By uncommon scholars,
And so in memoriam do we remember them
And let the wick mix with the wax
Until we’re back
Inside the real world’s hide,
And it’s only then that realisation makes those
Other yearned for nations alien
Compared to the
Accumulated beauty of your life
And the precious people you are responsible for,
Who may well long for more
Options themselves,
But have your authority to cherish.
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