Candle

The candle is burning slowly as I am finishing my cans of beer when there is nothing much I can do. I exhale the last puff of smoke and extinguish the cigarette butt in the ashtray. Why I am no more suicidal like before? I felt that there is so much changes happening these few days, I reckon this have not happened for weeks yet. There is some sort of disturbance within me and I can feel the imbalance these couple of days. It gravitates around the axis of unknown and yet I can feel there is a parallel force that walks with me. I am no more before where suicidal is part of me and being hedonistic distinguished me from the others. How did part of my bricked self have changed so promptly when I have no time to say goodbye to my old self? What is this? An intervention or isolation or perhaps its enunciation of what I have thought would destined to be?




If this is bad, why does my body vibrates warmly and not innuendos of disparaging nor corrosion of conformity? What really happened; I am sick playing with this sort of unknown feeling or vibe. Nevertheless, I feel that the snow surrounded the church of my heart start to melt. Where is the meadow covered with snow flakes? Why did I see creek of crystal clear water instead. Echo of angels reminds me of something which is so distance from me for a year or so. My fingers felt so smooth instead of those dead and numb due to frost bites and why does this happened? I used to dream of bonfires which will melt this unwillingness and this frozen soul of mine to accept the reality. Was I wondering within this cavern for years without noticing that I have been walking in circle? What kept me unnoticed that I have been trapped here for years? What blinded me when I can sense light and have been seeking for the bright beam that would lead me toward eternal freedom? Am I now in the state of being in trance or hallucinate with substance. Why this comes so drastic and gives me no room to accept subtle changes? What is bothering me is why I accepted it easily. I render my submission instantaneously.


More and more questions start to linger within this space of mind; why come when I am unsure and provocatively left me clueless of what had happened within these days? I sip the last drops of beer around the rim of the beer can. It is getting warm and sour, coy of it for now. My senses and their census are like still betraying me when I need them to insulate me as if that is what I called as security. Now, what left of me is being naked; humiliate of what I did for years. Tears may subside for years but I can still feel the ravaging current and those rapids that kept me breathless and disoriented; capsized in the dark. What come undone in the past has been dominating this soul and it portrays possibilities yet, I feel stronger. I swear by my soul, I shall venture to find the reason of these happenings with kept me ponder. I prefer to ponder as it is painful to reminisce about the past; the pain for being flung off track. This body is a mass; soulless mass and when you touched me, you feel my cold zombie-like body. I may not turn green, my soul has degraded beyond anyone’s expectation and I was once a prodigal being who roam this land which never guided by zenith. What is the use of zenith when you broke the compass; I am steering away and going astern from the island of prudence and pride. Mercy on me, mercy on this poor soul, mercy on this lost soul; begging for chances and repentance. Will this old wooden rosary which tangled along my palm helps me with penance? My weak body shows resilient after a long penitence; will you at least explain to me what is going on with me?


Sorrows and guilt are the dominant residents in this church of my heart; however there is something, from what you have expected has come to radiate my soul. It gave me the vibes and the courage to transform from this comfortable deformation. Deformation has left me shapeless just like the element that has been dragging me out from this known coldness toward warmness of a new guest.


There was something unexpected at the end of the chapel. During a stormy night, when the dark satin curtains begin to torn apart; I shut the window and keep the storm from destroying more of this old chapel. It has been my bastion, my citadel which is a safe haven for me and it is eerie to most passersby. I found a wooden box, fell from the curtain rail; without anticipation I open it and found a key. I discard that wooden box away after reading a papyrus scroll with text of scriptures. They key has nothing special and it was wrapped in muslin cloth which partly deteriorate. I reached for that bronze key and unlock the secret compartment under the figureless cross. I finish the last sip of the wine in this old chalice before I proceed to reach for the content. It was not to what I have expected; it is only a candle. It was like most candles I have seen in the church and I continued pouring more wine and finish the whole bottle. Angst is what I have tried to reduce instead of volley of words on the day I left the little town, to reside in this old chapel. I was drawn to the velvet wrapped throne where bishop used to rest. The gloomy altar and the alcohol soften me and soothed my body, I fell asleep.


Soon, I woke up only to find myself glancing at that candle, there is something about it which is unknown to me. Unlike those candles I have seen and those which I have lighten up. It is easy to assume previously it was just a candle made from wax till you light it up. It shines the whole altar and the sweet sandalwood aroma begun to change the whole ambient. It remains a mystery on why it was stored in the secret compartment by the bishop or vicar. I lift the candle up and the old brick wall starts to shine, my eyes start to see things I have never seen before; it became a gold tint wall. Candle, o mystical candle; I begin to chant. I close my eyes and move my fingers on that candle; I can feel that there are auras which come dispersing through it. Unbelievable, the candle filled me with strength and courage; I still try to define these feelings and elements that are so beautiful which posses my soul.


Every night, I am spending my bright days with that mystical candle.
Every time in day light, I am staring at that candle and smile.
Every day, I spend most of my time turning the hourglass and hope that darkness comes fast because whenever I am spending the bright night with candle, I feel the urge to make myself better.


Yet, I still failed to understand and define what are these things that make these all happened and the rendezvous which I have been thinking of under the soft sun beam which penetrate through the dilapidated wooden window.


Candle, what are you make of and why are you so mystical? I just seemed to be out of knowledge of your origin and your strength. All I know, you provide what I ever wanted and I am looking forward to understand you better.