a love like ruin, delicious as sin
a cure for breathing, just let it sink in
shattered pieces from the fall
all jagged edges and serrated bone
the sharpest of edges, so lovingly honed

a thirst like fire, a longing that burns
though the heart stops beating, the world still turns
should the flames consume, only a husk will fall
rise and continue, the night will never end
through fire and contention, do not bend

an embrace like darkness, fall into the grasp
endure or be consumed, that is the only path
ever to rise, and ever to fall
deeper and deeper, just let it sink in
once nothing is left, then you can begin

Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 5th of Slyphian, in the year 13 AC.