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…And I watched it die, our little glimpsing light of hope faded into nothingness. I watched it patiently and curiously as it slipped through the cracks of my hands, begging to be held; waiting to be pursued. For all, I know this was a test of my love and devotion, but I serve no one other than myself.

…And I heard it die, the little melody in my heart cadencing into the silence. I listened indifferently to the melancholy in her voice–Love. Love was once here, in between the lines desperately waiting to be heard, but I was tone deaf. I heard nothing, nothing but the mad voices in my head.

…And I felt it die, your heart and mine, buried in malice. It reminded me of everything I will never be again

…And I tasted it (death), in the early hours of our summer dream; hot and spicy as Tomide’s stew; the taste of death so bittersweet. Once upon a time, it was just you and me and our pot of dreams, but I chose to feed my demons instead.

…And I smelt it, the stench of despair permeating the corridors of our hearts. They burned our eyes and travelled deep into our lungs, we could barely scream for our hope was choked in the smoke of despair. We could have cried for help if we knew how. Instead we chose to go slowly and quietly like the night sky.


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