in the act of damning your soul to shackles,
one can only look up:
it is the sky that holds my solace.

i like to think that each of my wishes for you
became stars,
alas my sky has darkened

perhaps the sky is only for the living

with my head bent to hell
and my heart turned to a storm,
i pay reverence to the sky,
because at last it is time to say goodbye