Power Failure...

The first candle dies, silver smoke curling,
Climbing like newly freed souls heavenward,
Or whispering like the ghosts in my head.
The room is just that little bit darker.

Last attempt at flame on the tip of the wick,
Glowing dull red, like the last ruby on earth.
Shadows dance on the walls like escaped convicts,
Free at long last to wreak havoc with my mind.

The warm orange glow should be a comfort,
But instead it's not enough, it's too dark.
I long insanely for electric light,
But the storm has taken good care of that.

My eyes roam, searching every dark corner.
Why can't I see the monsters that hide there?
Every story written says that they do,
But should I be that afraid of the dark?

One by one, my candles are dying off,
Till one last surviving candle flickers,
Making the room seem to tilt crazily.
The draught kills it off, and there is darkness.