The cold winter wind,
Put you and me together,
Staring at the same bonfire,
With hearts burning like embers.

The landscape is still,
Only you and me animate it,
The grey sky smells like paint,
Tainted by the setting sun,
The bonfire, ever burning...

A wolf howls in the distance,
Of this beautiful, still, painting,
He dares not approach,
Your beauty must not be tainted.

I can go or I can rest,
The choice matters not,
As long as youre here, with me,
The bonfire shall shine on.