Little Lights

Some people burn bright like candles,
A steady source of warm and welcome light,
This dark, hard world becomes softer somehow,
Embraced and bathed in a loving glow.

But those steady lights will flicker,
In the cold wind of harsh truths,
And in the shadows on the wall we can trace the dark curling,
Of their doubts.

The flutters make long the pockets of dark,
And the shadows dance and play,
But in the end these quiet little lights,
Keep all the world's darkness at bay.