Hymn Poem by Banksoya Sauce

Soft hair brushing against my cheeks,
Simple touches here and there.
The gentle shine of your whitened teeth:
Our future could simply not exceed them.

Partly drawn curtains,
Outside the joyful nightingale
Your skin is growing colder
While under us, the bed remains made.

I'll hold your hand, tell you it's okay.
While you grasp the gun, telling me to stay
But just you know, there could be no better way
To finally put an end to it all and simply lay.

If the flames must engulf me,
I wish them to be the flames of love.
Must my skin burn with the torches
Of a hundred roaring wild fires
If it means I die in the memory of you.

In the lost excruciating pain,
I would roar through the skies:
Let God's anger embrace me
Through the burning sun.
Since I can't be who I am:
A woman who loves you.