Candles burning brightly,
forming circles on the ground,
flickering, lying quietly,
making not a sound,
like a bent blade of grass,
covered with dew.
Ceremonies of darkness,
casting its certain spell.
What is it that you saw,
that you knew so well?
Gone are the days,
gone from your mind,
of seeing or believing
or of trying hard to find.
A place where you can be,
alone when you would like,
some peace of mind.