A wretched soul kneeling before the fire as it reaches out into the night.
She closes her eyes and soaks in the breath of someone other.
Wrought with rot I raise my head to the rosey glow of the room.
Comforted only by the flapping sound of the winds wings.
Oh to hear that voice! To be quenched of woe by the sound of her singing.
My songbird has but flown into the arms of a world unfamiliar of her.
Charred by envy I'd cast myself to the will of the gods.
Save for one problem.
I do not believe in gods. Only monsters.
Her hand reaches out from the darkness in my dreams.
Soaked in the blood of loves gone by.
I stretch my hand out to hers.
Only to have the apparition slip through my forlorn fingers.
The darkness consumes my will.
I succumb.
For my light, my love, she wanders still.
And I. Alone.