A Modern St Vincent Millay

"My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends — It gives a lovely light!"

We understand the metaphor. We can picture the candle burning. And writers now will continue to use such imagery, because it remains understood. But its relevance dwindles. Gone are the times when candles and firelight were our only means to fight off the darkness. It remains a pleasing archaism; but should our writing not be modernised to meet the modern world? Should it not reflect our contemporary thoughts, our new, shared psyche? Should we not slough off tired words, clichéd images, just as old technology is cast aside, buried under layers of dust? We live in a time where candles hold scant importance. They have become delicate vanities. We might blow them out and and light the way with bright new similes that burn with white fluorescence, that hold up fiercer beacons of relevance in our dark new lives.

My laptop battery's running low; it will not last the eve;
But it's okay, I've charged my phone, I'll ring you when I leave.

And yet, somehow, these words are meaningless. Utterly trite. We live in a world where urgency is false, transience is illusionary. Convenience surrounds us, enveloping us in constant, blinding light. 
And if we want to escape, it suffices not to blow out our flames. We must unplug ourselves entirely.