Burning Candle

On burns the taper,
And infant turns playful,
As the shadows flicker,
He touches the candle.

As finger finds the flame,
The little kid exclaims,
The blue tongue has scorched,
And he catches a blister.

Why, he reasons, did I venture?
“Because life was meant to be an adventure”
Quick comes the answer,
It belongs only in fairytales, the happily ever after.

It is easy to see from the innocent child’s point of view,
But did anyone else see through?
There is something called the candle,
Which now sobs, for hurting the angel.

The candle wanted to prevent,
And it now repents,
For the assault, for the abuse,
On the child who was unknowing, who had just been amused.

So sweet was the child, it was attracted,
To the sickly, glimmering flame,
Don’t stay here, please go away,
Said the flame on many occasions, but the child had stayed.

And see, in the end, the child got hurt,
And the flame can’t remain inert,
It was in the candle’s sickly nature,
To hurt the other.

But the candle now prefers,
To melt instead of to hurt,
It now reasons,
It would rather be extinguished than cause blisters.

10:53 pm, 31st January, 2010.