The incense grips the scent of memory, and strangles it.
The sweet smell is deadly to that of a joining, and the final parting.
Black Love upon the gargoyle's burner.

Suffocating, scarcely mercy it's only images now.
Pictures that make one choke to remember.
Not another soul knows the power of that upon the gargoyle's burner..

Pain of knowing its final, the sweetness chases it away.
The faint glowing tip promises no more, yet only until its charred away..
When the scent ends, how much will it hurt?

Memories fried, ash in the gargoyle's burner..
They'll persist forever more, no courage to scatter the remains.

The bittersweet stick of forgetfulness, one to leave another.

In the Gargoyle's Burner.