The Story of Friendship

Beneath the moon, in whitened light,
There stands a candle strong and bright.
A flame that glows in restless ease
And glistens in the midnight breeze.

In entrance, you will see the glow,
And place a coloured glass below
To catch the candle's liquid tears,
In hope to cradle falling fears

With grace your hands will ring the flame,
In honour of its weakened game;
To stand and shield from stranger's breath,
Who may put reds and gold's to death.

The candle's flame is burning weak
You stand aside and gently speak
Enough to keep the flame alight
Through yet another darkened night.

When silence sooths the flame to sleep,
You place a glass o'er top to keep
The fire burning strong and bright
To glisten until morning light.