In the inky black of night,
for the sake of safety,
the candle tree that promises light,
its single branch left empty,
awaits a Kindler brave, yet small,
to cast its famous fireball breath.
Illuminate the library hall,
and radiate on the gravestones
of histories and dramas long forgotten.
Atop the bumpy candle tree,
the tiny dragon’s blazing blade
casts glowing sanctuary
in the dank, forgotten space
for an eager writer’s pen
to scratch against the frozen page
in search of treasured infamy
or at least partial pardon
from solitary confinement.
So when darkness next descends,
call upon a Kindler, swift and kind,
Write plainly, lest all misapprehend.
Seek a truth that you might find.
© 2023 | K.Hartless
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
This was such a magical poem, K! 🙂 ❤ Wonderful tribute to book wyrms everywhere 🐉📚
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Thank ye, kind sir. It was great fun to craft the story of the Kindler. May there always be one close by. 💜🐉
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faggot bundles
dry sticks
runes
and burning bridges
yeah~
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Flame is fuel
and end of rule 🔥☄️
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ja rule
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Beautiful imagery! I really love the lines:
“for an eager writer’s pen
to scratch against the frozen page”
❤️❤️❤️
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