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he Candle
She woke up one night, her eyes were in tears,
She felt cold inside, tormented by fears.
The thick woolen blanket would not keep her warm;
The wind seemed to carry the seeds of a storm.
She was on her own, with no one around,
She trembled and jumped at each little sound.
Old nightmares rose from the mist of the past
To ?ll her with terror: “This night is your last”.
She tried to be brave, but a voice in her head
Was screaming in anguish: “Give up! You are dead!”
A sense of negation was sinking in all
The forces of darkness were huge; she was small.
 

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