[Soda_Voxel]

I light the candle.

The unlit, dark room is gently illuminated by the small hot flame flickering in the centre.
I suck in my breath as to not extinguish the light.
My fingertips begin to warm.
The wax is dripping, but at least there is heat,
and light,
and hope.
The darkness whispers outside the door, crawling through the nooks and crannies.
I realise the light won't last for long.
But I have to relish it whilst I can.
I could set my room alight and bask in the warmth and glow of the fire,
but that'd take me with it, too.

Shadows are screaming, my lighter out of life.
I'm trying to keep it alight.
I need their warmth and shine and glow.
But, for me and my flame, the darkness is too much.
Screaming and crying filling my ears.
Candle's melting. Heart's breaking.
The gloom growing and screeching at me.

I exhale.
That one breath was too much.
The flame is omitted. The light and heat is gone.
I am left alone with these shadows that consume me now.
No more light, no more glow, or flame.

It's cold.
So cold...

this was a poem I wrote in 2019, I edited it a bit to make it better and help the message come across more.