A Candle’s Question

I shine brighter than anyone else. Whenever I illuminate the room, everything is dipped in pure gold. The book covers sparkle, the shelves, the lamp, the chair is different than in daylight. They are lesser, they do not reveal their entire form, mysterious beings who suddenly tell a different story in my light. They are stories not meant for daylight, stories filled of long forgotten pasts and worlds that once were, forever lost.

Great shadows flicker through the room in my fire. They dance on the walls and around the objects playing their own game. The shadows are my children, without my light, darkness would consume them, and their silent dancing would fade into the unseen.

The dark window creates a ghostly reflection of everything in the room with my light. In this mirror world everything is a spectre but me. My reflection shines gold in the dark. I am the centre of everything there is.

However, every time I shine, every time, I illuminate the room, I fade a little bit. I am afraid that the source of my life, that nourishes my glow, will eventually be gone.

I can see, I can only see through my shining light. Once it is gone, I will be gone too. The longer I shine the shorter I become, and the shadows of the night grow stronger.

I do not fear death, but I fear the advancing shadows in the room, the ones who are not born through my light. The shadows who are stronger than anything else. Who will illuminate the night when I am gone? Who will battle the greater nightmares of the night? Or will darkness take over forever?