I see the candle’s running tallow
Dripping on the stained oak floor,
Spreading runnels thin and sallow,
To the bolted double door.
Now slowly does the dying flame,
Flit and sputter from the sill,
So like my heart, yes, just the same,
Soon they’ll both be cold and still.
Look, I think the dawn is breaking,
There’s a strange man I can see,
Soon it is he will be taking
All there is that’s left of me.