Ficly

Said The Darkness to the Candle

Said the darkness to the candle, “Why fightest thou the night?”
Said the candle to the shadow, “Why begrudgest thou my light?
’Tis only in the contrast that thine shape and form is known.”
“Oh, thine folly is what offends,” cooed the dark,
“I exist quite fine without thee, forever and ever.
Know ye not ’tis the fear of me that gives thy being purpose?”

The candle paused, flame of thought a flickering with breezes,
“That is not so. I do protest. My maker sits with thee long hours.
True. True. With sun gone down thou doest exist and stretch,
and I am left alone, at rest, as long as day persists.
Every threat of darkness does not a flame require,
Yet on some nights, some times, my light is called to bear.

“Tis not the fear of frightful things within thy dark bosom,
But the hope of finding happy truth which defines my being here.”

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