Thursday, April 14, 2011

Riddle

You have seen me a hundred times
Yet these days I am obsolete
I guide people through the dark
So in blackened castle halls they can meet

I can feel the sweat of the hands
Of the person carrying me
As well as the burning toungues of flame
Which lick up and down my body

The only thing that I fear
Is falling on the cold wet ground
Or water being thrown upon me
For if so, my light is doused

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