Self Discovery in Juxtaposition

There is this blessed thing
In an empty house
That sucks in all the oxygen
Dampening the room
The air thick, oppressive
But it is a thing of wonder
A beautiful golden light
That dimly glows a beacon
Through the cloying, stagnant air.
The air thickens with proximity
Pulling and pushing at the body
Keeping it immobile from
This perfect point of joy.
Only a great will
Can carry on
Rather than slowing and stopping, immobile
The candle is well worth the effort,
But I doubt my will is so great.