It's much more than just lighting the lamp. In fact, it's the easiest of all - to strike a match and lend the flame, guarded in the cave of your palms, to an oil-slicked wick curled in the hollow of the earthenware. That's it. The lamp comes to life, its muffled-yellow sheen encroaching upon the dark, like weary ocean waves closing around rocks, catching our appreciation altogether, our love. But that's not all - the oil, meanwhile, would be quickly depleting in the lamp; the wick, burnt to its half and the flame a disfigured leaf of orange walloping perilously against the wind. It would die any moment and, so here's the larger consideration, the better understanding to courtship that is to be espoused: one of us has to keep checking on the lamp, responsibly, from time to time, with a fresh wad of wicks and a cup of oil, to keep it glowing; to keep us going. It's not as easy. And unless we are truly committed to keeping vigil - our sincerity consolidated, our loyalty upheld, our faith unwaivering; until we learn to hold onto things past their initial epiphany without losing zeal; let's not light one.

- Sobhan