Tell me why you left me here to rot,
the hole in my heart stretching out to the sea’s surface,
veiling a silk-made sun.
I’ve been anticipating your return by the shore across the nameless sea,
but when even the fog’s hive dissipated,
I could not bless my very eyes with your expected arrival.
My fingers trembling, turning numb from the chilly wind,
all blood within slowing down,
yet whenever I think of you, my fervent passion’s rising.
Now, truth be told, the draining cold gets the better of me,
the sheer heated thought of you dealing with the raging death battle,
wishing you would find me in all this unbearable mess.
If only you came sooner.
