No title

A dark, black backdrop
suffocated light
shadows brought to life
only by a matchstick
In two ticks
they swiftly rise
and dance, and shake on sooty walls
before the short glow sadly dies
after just one frantic heartbeat.
Shackled, banished once again
they vanish in the blackened darkness
and lurk, and wait as they rest
in a smoke-infested hungry night.

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