You were a gentle light.
And I was simply so moved by your plight.
Like a candle you burned ever so brightly,
Trying to extricate yourself delicately.
You stood tall for as long as you could,
Before the weight of your wax brought you down for good.
I merely watched on
As others began to notice
Your extinguished light
They hurried over with lighters
And matchsticks
To restore your blazing radiance.
They worked
For the most part
Their fire setting your wick alight
Nevertheless, a short term fix with a flame unable to truly burn
The hardened wax that was left behind, no.
You would have to remake yourself
Mold yourself anew
Set completely aflame by an inferno
Until even the most painful
Agonizing memory burned in to you
Melts away to be part of a nostalgia you can smile back on.
You will become a lighthouse again;
A port of call
For me to house
My little
Lost
Heart

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