While unbeknownst to me,
A candle gleamed,
nearer than the sun,
nearer than the moon,
nearer than love.
Covered by a veil of thorns,
Still it burns.
Estel, do you waver?
Estel, does the ocean come to quench your flame?
No stream, no lake, no roaring river far
Could make your light dark, but the sea . . .
Estel, there are many candles,
Many flickering lights that stretch into the void
And some are dear to me,
But none so dear as you.
Estel, no candle shines so bright,
Not for lack of warmth,
But you flickered
And becoming strong became dear to me.
If the ocean conquers you
Then surely, Estel, it will conquer me.
And I will drown beneath the sweet salt
Though fire burns,
Close to me.
Yet, I cannot see it.
Estel, I cannot see the lights
Dancing on their black trees.
They seem weak and cold
Diminished if you diminish.
Perhaps
I am only one light among many to you,
But still I fight the darkness;
I am one more smile
One more laugh
One more song.
If my song reaches you near silence,
Estel, I still sing.
And if your music ends,
If the fire inside you fails in the sea,
The world is a little darker.
Estel, I am a little darker.
