Candles Lying in the Rain

Candles Lying in the Rain


Their bottled sweat and fawning
Seemed like once a calling
A window shot in the night
Now high hopes’ fall is dawning

What happens when the wick’s done
The Atlantic winds blow strong
What happens when you walk on the wrong stone
Maybe you’ll learn to get along

I wish I could be your God
But to you, I’m a mountain top
The candles and charming assassins
Prepare their lowly crop

The cameras have been kind to you
You’ve chosen the mean heart
Keep your face open when we ask:
Where should it end, where should it start?

Lit flames condemned to die
Never the stuff of gas, of rock, or tide
Candles in the rain will deceive
The hawks sphering ’round
The hilltops watch you grieve

They’ve grown wise
None the more old
To the lies that you cry
That go untold

Melanie Falconer is a freelance writer and editor living in Los Angeles, California. Her writing mainly concerns philosophy, personal experiences, cultural commentary, and her love of the visual and performing arts. If you’d like to reach out to her, you can do so here.

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