Passing the Torch

Candles are only lit during blackouts, but I feel as though I am a cigarette. To everyone growing up I was a burnout, but right now I am burning for the last time...and I feel the urge to take a drag. When the war began, we rose together as our world fell apart. As children, unable to abide crooked beginnings to end themselves, we kindled the flames of rebellion...And once lit, a fuse must remain tended...for what might happen if no one cares to keep watch? It has been so long since, and now, only a few of us are left to remember how it all began. I was unable to accept things then, but I can't bear to leave them as they are now! Once all is done, will everything become as it was meant to be? Was this how I was intended...a candle to be snuffed out? Am I this...because a candle only shines in the dark? Just a suspect who might lose heart, once everything becomes light at the end of the night?

Suddenly, my brain turns on and I can feel my body again…my best friend is tending to it. Kneeling beside me, I can't make him out but he is speaking quickly and quietly. In thanks, I grimace. Despite all that has happened, he hasn't changed since it all began--it's me…if only I could get up to show him who grew to be taller…but who would believe it? At this thought, a bomb at the end of its wick, I explode. A sudden urge to ignite everything burns me up, and, as I stare at my best friend, I hope he catches my flame and carries me back home. Finished tending to my body, my best friend informs me I'll pull through…but until then…I must rest. Then, to place my mind further at ease, he reassures me. You are truly a good person if you can remain honest when you're angry or sad and still be loved… He punctuates this with a nod and smiles. It is my closure. I can allow myself to rest before returning home.