My candle.

My candle.

The tiny little flame flickers under the pressure of my calm breath.
It warms my palms and my face.
Even my heart.

That candle is my everything.
The flame burns bright and is always with me.

But once there is nothing left to burn, it fades out.
Then my candle is dead.
Without that little flame I feel empty inside.

We are all candles.
We start as a little flame and we develop to a bigger one.
And at some point we slowly shrink and fade out.

The only difference is..
Candles can be replaced.
Our lives can't.

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