For the last time let me linger through those memories
That ruined my peaceful evenings, stole my slumber and infused the resuscitation of my long forgotten dreams.
I need to let the afterimages burn in my tired eyes, one at a time,
Until it causes fire within my rueful stare
And only then will it turn into dust.

And if the dust must find a home behind the comfort of my heavy eyelids,
What cruelty must it try to convey?
I will wash myself free from my beloved agony
So that my arms will eventually untie itself from this forlorn fantasy.
The gray clouds will soon pour tears down into the earth where I scrawled your name.

I will send away my disregarded affections in forms of stardust with every step I take as I walk away.