Candle

Life is as fickle as a candle sometimes.

Like a candle, we flatter to deceive, especially in a dark room. We give ourselves hope, some light to see and yet at the smallest hint of breeze or wind, our flame fickle.  A stronger gush of wind would instantly kill the light. At times, we are like that; fickle-minded creatures. We vow to be strong, to be a light in the darkness, to change and to grow but how often had we let people (and ourselves) down because of the smallest sign of trouble and distress?

I really like Shakespear's "Life's Brief Candle". While it preaches pessimism and gives not even the slightest hint of hope in it, I think there's another way to look at it.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
How long more must we fool ourselves in the shadows?
At the hint of gust, at the hint of trouble
How our flame fickle, our wax trickle,
Life is but a brief candle
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
How long more can we hope to light our tomorrows? 

Life would be littered with regrets because we are not perfect. But then we learn from them and try to be the better man in days to come. Our tomorrows may not be many and are numbered but as the countdown continues, it is only up to us to make those times here worthwhile.