Thy inveterate love why must you exhale toxic memories to imitate pictures of you and I?
Psychedelic canvas stained with color. This has plenty faded since our passing, yet what a shade it is that remains.
Of our passion bleached with sorrow.
Tip dipped brushes to be broken, nevermore used in this world, a ghost is all that you have become. Though I long to love such a shadow.
Can you scream loud enough to haunt me? I would caress you in bitter nightmares.