Wound in Hades' cold grasp,
brought to asphyxiation by his fingers,
I can feel the universe crumble away as the edges of my vision darken,
blurred,
and I call out for you.
I was always a fool for pretty eyes,
dimples, freckles,
tattoos and short hair,
and the kind of laugh that makes your hair stand on end
(in shocked delight, not terror,
though the way your heart begins to pound makes you wonder).
It's enough to say I'll cause my own downfall,
but I'll always give my last breath to whisper your name.