Burning Lantern

A Poem by Methmi Mandara

About the sadness of a burning lantern

Gently and vividly you created me; why?
To fly me in the dark sky

I came to your childish hands
You sent me off to the Swedish lands

With an aromatic candle shinning in
As a golden little tin

I went through the clouds higher and higher
With the flamed thing, it was a fire

Hearing children crying out as a melodious pattern
"Ah! see that glamorous flying lantern"

I see my fire was overjoyed
"Be controlled" I cried

The fire which shone me lit up soon
As the dark clouds hit the moon

I was just ashes nothing left more
A fallen crashed lantern, down by the shore