I am but a flame, minding my glow,
Lighting my humble surroundings,
I just want to exist and be bright,
Somedays, people appreciate me,
Because my light provided them,
A way to beat the darker times,
Somedays, people try to end me,
Because my light is of no more service,
I try to weather and not wither from,
Those occasional gusts of winds,
Or I got comfortable in my little lamp,
That I fear that my flame will lose,
Its identity if I am let out of confinement,
Somehow I stand the scare of the winds,
In hopes to just exist again in my usual lamp,
Somedays, people try to use me,
Push my limits and abuse my heat and light,
Someday, somehow, someone,
Abused my flame to such an extent,
That the glass confining my flame,
Started cracking slowly until it shatters,
Announcing to the world with its sound,
The sound waking me in that process,
I realised the true potential of my flame,
That day, people got to witness firsthand,
A flame devouring everything leaving ashes behind.