Four o'clock.

the alarm sounds.

the night ends

All this while

a murky candle burnt.

Burnt deliriously;

Now layers of wax in heaps..

All this while

I went on scribbling

pages after pages

for my dandelions whose life was only

a bunch of petals, thousands of them,

a thousand tales

doomed to die a single death in a single day.

Allegories, fables, signet rings

marks on the pages sealed.

Four o'clock

the alarm goes

marking another day,

time to wind up

and start anew.