It would be
Strangely
Beautiful.
If only it
Were
Fires
Burning.
It would be
Strangely
Beautiful.
If only it
Were
Fires
Burning.
It fades
To nothing,
From pearls
On shining glass.
I am free.
No trace left.
Yet,
You.
It burnt
A soft black
Scar,
From pure to
Furious jet.
No trace left.
I am free.
You,
Yet.
Trapped.
By the
Marks you
Leave.