Euthanasia
Aug 25, 2017 · 1 min read
Candle is flickering,
The breeze is strong,
But, the candle is holding on,
As the Breeze powers on.
Can’t hear the white tube snickering,
Can’t see the yellow bulb glowing,
Can sense,
Wax like a frozen pond,
Torch fast diving into the pond.
Alas,
Breeze is winning the race,
Only Breeze is running the race,
Candle wants to bow out with grace,
So….
Human Oxygen ends the Race.