Linger

The erratic flicker of a fading flame,
is a premonition for our end in dark shame.
We have ourselves waivered and dwindled,
until at last we cannot be rekindled.
Like the morning recall of a radiant moon,
we have fallen from the sky all too soon.
I can not endure this extended demise,
our fate already sealed by your sad lies.
You've made sure the last hours are bled,
but the epilogue has been read. We've both
blindly grasped, to a dream that has long since passed.
The clouds bleed a slow death of rain.
The bee stings and it's own death brings.
Even the sun will burn itself black. Its time to accept
that there is no way back.