The Candle on The Desk

I’ve been in this
Dark spot,
Like the candle
On my desk
Lit by wicks in
Hot, scented wax
Holding onto hope,
But clearly diminishing,
Yet burning hot.

So present.

I focus too much
On the past,
That it all hits me
At this desk,
When I seek
Introverted solace; and
Need a break.
Just to get it
All done, again.

I hope in another plane,
I turn out okay.
I’ve been doing better, but
I need one thing to establish
That I’ve healed.

Now the real work
Returns again.