As the night faded on what we built over the years, the sun setting on our burnt Roman Empire…

I stared as love burned on my tears, on your forced pyre.

My sorrowful scream echoed in the night, the taste of your love fading to ash.

Knowing nothing I did would make it right, forced to leave it all in the pass.

As the burn of the ember singed my tongue, all that’s left of you is your flavor.

From the tree the limp form of my love hung, your rosy flavor faded into distaste and good lord has it stung.