A single candle burns in my room,
Its fragrant scent fills the gloom.
Before the altar of light fell down,
I saw a pure offering, without a crown.
His body, like ribs of a lamb,
The wick burns, quiet as a man.
With tears of pearl and blood so bright,
The flame consumes in the night.
The candle flickers, dances in grace,
Like a fairy in a quiet place.
Its light shimmers on the desk nearby,
As darkness, like a startled bird, flies high.
The shadows flee through cracks in the wall,
The room is bathed in light’s quiet call.
His body, like ribs of a lamb,
The wick burns, quiet as a man.
With tears of pearl and blood so bright,
The flame consumes in the night.
The candle burns, a sacred pyre,
Its scent grows strong, rising higher.
In this room, where darkness fled,
I taste the offering’s fragrance instead.
The scent of sacrifice fills the air,
A quiet reverence everywhere.
The flame stands tall, unwavering still,
A symbol of life, of strength, of will.
The night grows deep, the shadows thin,
As the candle burns, pure within.
So I sit, as the scent surrounds,
In this room where silence abounds.
The candle burns, a sacred flame,
And I savor the scent, whispering its name.
His body, like ribs of a lamb,
The wick burns, quiet as a man.
With tears of pearl and blood so bright,
The flame consumes in the night.
Its fragrant scent fills the gloom.
Before the altar of light fell down,
I saw a pure offering, without a crown.
His body, like ribs of a lamb,
The wick burns, quiet as a man.
With tears of pearl and blood so bright,
The flame consumes in the night.
The candle flickers, dances in grace,
Like a fairy in a quiet place.
Its light shimmers on the desk nearby,
As darkness, like a startled bird, flies high.
The shadows flee through cracks in the wall,
The room is bathed in light’s quiet call.
His body, like ribs of a lamb,
The wick burns, quiet as a man.
With tears of pearl and blood so bright,
The flame consumes in the night.
The candle burns, a sacred pyre,
Its scent grows strong, rising higher.
In this room, where darkness fled,
I taste the offering’s fragrance instead.
The scent of sacrifice fills the air,
A quiet reverence everywhere.
The flame stands tall, unwavering still,
A symbol of life, of strength, of will.
The night grows deep, the shadows thin,
As the candle burns, pure within.
So I sit, as the scent surrounds,
In this room where silence abounds.
The candle burns, a sacred flame,
And I savor the scent, whispering its name.
His body, like ribs of a lamb,
The wick burns, quiet as a man.
With tears of pearl and blood so bright,
The flame consumes in the night.