What's left,
In your mind,
Of me,
Of time.
What's left,
is a wish..
An itch of sorts,
I'm just another mark,
On your list.
In entirety, I love alone,
In resemblance,
To the stories of old,
The dark prophecies,
The memories of the elders,
Who in their youths loved freely.
I wonder if you still think of me sometimes,
And I'd die to know you cared.
It's so cold here,
And I just want to be held by you,
In my darkest hours,
I am alone,
In my cell of a heart,
A shackle of a soul.
Paying respects to the gods of old,
The memories entombed in the blood of innocent,
And the ashes of our souls,
For all eternity,
I am shackled,
Cold and Alone.
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