Ashes. ashes

A letter written in black,

drenched in red

ink

pours from my veins,

and drains me.

My hands are cold--

I am

gone.

You are

gone.

What can we do about this?

If the room keeps spinning,

I am going to pass out;

ashes, ashes

we all fall down.

If the room keeps spinning,

you're going to lose me

again.

All I see is faces:

pale faces,

cold faces,

your face.

I am lifted,

you are grounded.

You need to find your wings,

before this world swallows you.

You need to find your wings,

before it is too late.

The room suddenly stops spinning,

and the world is quiet

for just a moment--

we have found peace,

if only for a moment.

And then the 'toc' follows the 'tick'

and the mushroom cloud

hits you directly in the chest;

ashes, ashes

we all fall down.

My ashes

were lost in the fire.

Your ashes

are stuck inside your bones.

The wind blows,

and a piece of me

tickles against your eye.

The wind blows,

and you begin to cry--

I miss you already, my love.

Heaven, or hell

means nothing

without you.