A Study in Despair

She meekly sits, aware of time passing
And huddled on the corner of a couch,
A breathing still-life from 'rightness' fasting

Can I go on now? She whispers aloud,
Do I have the strength to move ahead?
Or do I remain immobile, and in silence my life enshroud?

I know my flame is burning, but is it seen?
She questions, is it vibrant and alluring?
If no one sees it save myself - then ought I keep enduring?