• love is like a candle
    a bright light in the darkest of times
    it feeds off of something
    something that can't be seen
    but everyone knows it's there
    but give it to much and it burns out

    the strange thing about a flame
    is that it consumes so much
    yet, it's such a fragile thing
    with a well placed breath
    it's gone in a puff of smoke
    who knows where it goes

    there's no real way to predict its movement
    it dances back and forth where it pleases
    all you want though is for it to keep burning
    bright in the dark room
    but when the wick runs out there's nothing you can do
    for in a whisp of grey smoke
    it's gone...

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