Under wax candles


The photons went off
and darktons came in.
Like a blind prince of Persia
I searched for the old fuel
in the sands of the neoteric world.

From the wax light
came so many
shadowy creatures
and a lot of umbrae, penumbra.

In a trice, I was remembering
the 18th-century four-horsemen — 
Pestilence, war, famine and death
and other such sins of that world.

How the other gender
was a dark matter —
so out of touch with light.

How poor were the poets
as they could not employ
their quills on the bed.
Everyone goes to
night mode
when the sun kicks the bucket.

When the light came in
I realised what
light means — 
A whole new world,
A restored world,
and a more humane world.

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