I will never feel the warmth again,
The way I felt it last year.
You're unsympathetic and vile.
You poison me like no one else.
you force your ash down my throat.

The dry remains of something burned.
I taste ruin.
It's gritty and distasteful
but you won't let me wash it down.

There's only one solution.
You know it as well as I do.
I'll take to the blade and drive it
into my own neck.

Life explodes from the wound.
I hear a deep, dark pounding in my ears.
The ash escapes along red roads.
It is done.