A wick amidst great wax,
You'll not get to the end any faster,
You may as well relax,
As the wick shortens, you will see it all,
Then all of it will pass,
The only way to stop's to extinguish,
Which has been the choice of some in the past,
But what becomes of what was to be left,
As the hot wax cools down,
Intertwined with what was to be a part,
Of candles lit around?
Can candles change,
What they started to be?
Will yours disappear like it never was,
If you have seen all you would like to see.
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