The Flame

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The flames dance before me
The wick moist with wax
the candle slowly melts
the flesh slowly burns

Blackened and emotionless
Black and charred
The nerves are triggered
They remember pain
but the soul has left
and, with it, so has will
resting gently over
the beautiful flame
the skin twitches
it writhes
but nothing will stop it
no soul, no will, no life
no emotion

It's all dead
Nothing's left
just the strength
to hold the hand
over the flame

Burn it down
Burn it all
Pour it out
And scar the flesh

Screaming in agony
the hand now must survive
Pain overrides all
It shows there's still life
Only the living feel pain
Only the living can suffer
and so we dream
about the dead
and envy their stoic place
and envy their freedom
They are awake
and we are asleep

May the flame wake me
May the flame kill me
draw out the pain
pull it forth from the inside
and place it all on the hand
the hand that envy's the dead
the hand that can barely remember
How it's charred flesh once was.