The waiting for:
Where art thou this insignificant day?
Pray thee, throw some light
As it is the sky is so devoid of glow
That the motley soul craves for thy presence
To keep the nightlamp burning...
The waking up:
The wick is diminishing fast
Like the passage of time
For when the wick is burnt
And I, my own lamp is devoid of light,
Though time will usher me into dawn...
The walking onward:
I take this day and its light
To begin my own journey onwards
While it would immensely please my heart
To step into thy shoes,
Nevertheless, I am committed to some other call