These wretched, endless study nights

Spent poring over ancient tomes

I try to pour my midnight oil

A drop clings to the bottle lip

Reflected on this golden sphere

That hangs above my little light

Are all the words of ancient kings

Of petty slaves and other things

It falls, this drop, its bond to life

Now severed like a lover’s kiss

Before they say their last goodbyes

It spirals like a bird that lost its wings

It splashes into nothingness

To join its brothers as it burns

To feed the flame, how harsh it churns

Its heat, once calming, now returns

To life, with vigor founded on a life

Of many lives once sacrificed

This flame, it burns for me alone

What light will I feed to atone?


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