Of the many ways to tell you how I feel. I could shout out loud, Write in the dirt. Paint in smoke across miles Of the sky all the ways I love you. But none of it would mean as much.
So with the last ink, Of this last pen. I’ll write the words Which too would be my last breath. I love you, my darling.
The prompt was, what would you write with only a few lines of ink left in the last pen