We're As A Candle's Flame, Not The Candle Poem by Mark Heathcote

Your soul is a key jammed in a lock
you cannot force forwards or back
right or left; all you can do now is wait.

Wait long enough you'll come to see
understand there isn't a door or lock.
The ocean of life retains not the vessel.

That floats and drifts, endless upon it.
That's a vapour you cannot contain,
the sun is an all-consuming fire it exists

In humble beginnings as also an end.
It lives without life, therefore, coexists yet
because it only requires waxed-wicks to burn.

We're a candle's flame; we're not the candle
we burn to our extinguished ends
to be ignited by this life - once again.