Who delights in daylight’s reflection— slipping from invisibility into oblivion?
The chandelier gathers shadows, waiting for the hand that dares to touch its darkness.
It glimmers with borrowed fire, lamps feeding its fragile glow from within.
Yet the chandelier remembers— the one who measured despair along the trembling borderlines of light, to illuminate.
Twilight is no eternity; it is only a threshold, a stepping stone toward the next stage.
It sets silent alarms, summoning sources of light to absolve the world of its sins.
When shadows fall, empathy begins.

Someone once told me it’s impossible to marry poetry and philosophy. You constantly disprove this!
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This is the best compliment I received today. Thanks 😊
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Reena this is great – it’s like a work of Goghic-tinted philosophy transforming the chandelier into a vessel for memory and moral weight 🙌
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Wow! What a description! I’m seeing the chandelier in a new light now 😊
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😀🙌
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What an interesting take on the prompt. Nicely written.
Here is my attempt at “chandelier:” Witch’s desk – Brewing Coffee, Twisting Words & Breaking Pencils
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Thank you! I love your tagline. Use the keyboard, so that pencils can live 😁
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There is something satisfying about the sound of fingers flying over the keyboard.
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True that
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It is almost like a human, taking in all the pain and spreading light.
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I like what you say – a very special kind of human.
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🥰
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We need that chandelier right now because the world is full of shadows! Thank you for writing to the prompt, Reena!
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Thank you so much, Merril!
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You’re welcome, Reena!
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