There in the pitch darkness of the room,
A little lamp, with all its might, burned bright.
As the onyx night threatened to consume it,
The lamp shone, a flickering fight.
And with the soothing breeze, did the flame sway
But stood firm, stubborn,
Resisting, fighting, falling, rising again.
Shadows danced on the wall,
A grim swordfight to the death,
In came a gust of wind, knocked the lamp over,
The fire seemingly extinguished.
Then in the jet black silence,
Sparked alive an ember,
Spread rapidly wide ’til black turned gold.
Went up in flames, nothing survived,
Darkness chased so far away,
You could see the burning glory from afar.
Only a fool could be mistaken,
The dark never overcame the light,
Flames win. Fires win.
Kill a fire, the embers remain,
Vengeful to seize what was taken away.
Dying embers can spark again,
So fight. Fight for what’s yours, today.
∼© Shubhangi Srinivasan.