Dying on the Wick

Dying on the Wick

Paper and pen are all I need,
Plus the addition of godspeed.
I'm slipping now, I'm fading quick,
My flame is dying on the wick.
Wax is dripping, dripping fast;
Final moments blurring past.
I'd said I'd die a heroine
But life's a fight I cannot win.
I'm lying here with writer's block;
Time is ticking on my clock.
Curtain's closing, here it comes,
Thin blood pounding just like drums...
Light is flooding this dank place,
Through the door I see your face.
You snatch my note and then my pen.
I fight to keep my eyes open.
I hear a shout, a muffled plea,
Your eyes are raised, your hands on me.
I feel your breath against my skin--
It's now I know I've let Death win.
I smile once, contrite and true...
Your whisper tells me, "I love you."

Cheery little poem, eh? (;