She smiles with weak eyes
A glint of wisdom
Guarded by her age
Threatened by a single hymn
Palms of wrinkled leather
Blue and grey like murky water
A stream into her lungs
Lived on through her daughter
The power and sanctity of youth
Are no longer of any use
Like the arm around her;
No longer tame but ruse
The candle she lit with a frail hand
Will eat away the dark
Until all the wax is consumed
And the light is no longer within her heart
She’ll leave with a whisper
On everyone’s lips
Though she died at sunset
They’ll sing of an eclipse.
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