Candle

The flame never wavers,
On this candle of mine.
It prances and dances,
Its colors so divine.
Swaying and playing,
How it teases my mind.
Gleaming and glinting,
So highly exalted.
With one wave of my hand,
The flame altogether faulted.
Now it smokes and smolders,
Under sub-zero cold.
I have but one lightless candle,
Left to hold.
To market and give,
For the ones with no light.
So the flame finally wavers,
On this candle by night.

Author's Note

Written a long time ago, though it is still one of my better ones. Let me know how you think I could improve.