Red roses unfurled bright fires by the footsteps of the dead, embers bleed in candlelight orange as it fades into the night.
Bereaving of the death of love, embraced by the cold winters of the absence, to beg and to have failed.
Its judgement weighs my soul, counts my value in pure gold.
And in the ravaging storms, he is at peace in your love.
His soul depart his heart to rest with the stars at night.
The disarray of our worlds and the crossing of our souls, entangled in this winding mess, chaos brought us in here.
I repose by the lullabies of the moon, tranquil, soothing like quiet rivers.