Death will be my only peace, many of us await it with a candle in the window.

A little muzhik was working on the railroad, mumbling in his beard.
And the candle by which she had read the book that was filled with fears, with deceptions, with anguish, and with evil, flared up with greater brightness than she had ever known, revealing to her all that before was in darkness, then flickered, grew faint, and went out
forever.

I learned without her saying a word that there are truly many ways to pray, and lighting a candle is one of them.

Fear leads to death as the window to the courtyard. Jump!

Wait, he's coming to the window, ... He's wagging his tail.

Candle In The Wind.