Flames of damnation will reach my lips,

but they will whisper your name,

softly,

like they once did in the quiet of us.

They no longer feel like fire,

only the fading warmth of you.

And when I’m buried,

slipping gently beneath the earth,

with no grace left to carry me home,

I hope something of me

still finds its way back to you.

I hope you’ll remember

how gently I once loved you.

To hold and to give,

because love was never meant to stay,