The Lantern of Hollow Flame
Remembering the ones who are lost
The Lantern of Hollow Flame
A lantern swings, in empty hands.
Its flame is thin, yet never dies.
It casts no warmth, it gives no light.
It only burns, to mark the lost.
The keeper walks, through fields of stone.
The graves are dark, the names erased.
The lantern hums, it pulls them near.
The hollow flame, collects their breath.
The eyes that watch, are blind with fire.
The lips that speak, are lined with ash.
The flame remembers, all it touched.
It grows with pain, it grows with fear.
And when the keeper, lifts it high.
The world will dim, the stars will crack.
The hollow flame, will rule the night.
And none will rise, from where it burned
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
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