In the quiet hush of the midnight air, A burning candle, a solitary flare.

Dancing flames in shadows’ embrace, Illuminating solitude with gentle grace.

Flickering whispers against the dark, A silent storyteller, a tiny spark.

Casting shadows on walls so bare, The candle weaves tales in the still night air.

Waxen dreams melting in the silent hour, A beacon of hope, a flickering flower.

Each flame a moment, a transient light, Guiding thoughts through the velvet night.

Embers of warmth in the cold moon’s gaze, The burning candle, a quiet blaze.

A dance of shadows, a soft, muted hum, In the night’s embrace, the candle becomes.

As wax surrenders to the quiet night, The candle’s glow, a serene sight.

A luminous vigil in the hours so tight, Burning bright until morning light.