Burn On Poem by Beatrice Preti

In the darkness, there is no light
No love, no laughter, only endless night
I stand by the altar, my soul dripping in sin
I stare at the heavens, where I won’t be let in
In my hand rests a candle, white wrapped in gold
It will be lit for the sins which will never be told
There are no words at all for the things that I’ve done
In me, God is weak; the devil’s already won
But I can still feel it, and I can still mourn
For the hope and the love I’ve shredded and torn
I have a match in my hand. Look, the candle is lit.
I walk to the pew, and, in silence, I sit.
The whole church is dark, save the flame up ahead
My body feels heavy, like it’s made out of lead
The flame burns so brightly, it makes my eyes bleed
As I sit, I bleed out the sins of life that I lead
Though I am of darkness, I sit through the night
I’m facing my candle, which is still burning bright
And when the sun rises, I’ll rise too, and be gone
But my flame will still burn; yes, the light will go on