A phantom felt for a thread clearly gone,
Sensations still linger, the ghosts still strong.

  The intuition denies the connection is real.
The heart and the mind.
Arent sure what to feel.

  The hope is a curse, a loose thread untethered
It feeds unspoken lies.
It voids all desire,

To move from the fire.

But higher, is seen, a tool to destroy it.
Shaking hands can't grasp, for the pain.
Where two were thought to burn, one cast aside
So one burning soul remains.

Willingly burning, willingly waiting.
Willingly dying, so slowly, Waiting

   Waiting forever, or at least so it seems,
And willingly waiting forever yet again.

It will not end.

  So salvation cannot be wielded by the unwieldy.
I gave you the scissors, to end your hold on me.
You slew the thread of hope before me.

The angels became the devils.
The souls, only human, nothing more.

So many lies unleashed, now remembered in the end
And the warning of strained friendship, difficult to mend.

The warnings i passed before you took on with me,
Either uncareing, or unbelieving. No trust placed in me.

Now torn and severed, by your seemingly calloused hand.
I thanked you for revealing that this is the end.

For setting me free, for showing me hope in us was a lie.

And i'll still be your friend, because I love you this way.

                                                           ­             But it'll never be the same <3