Wrathful Winter Poem by Agatha Eliza

Burn away now, sweetest angel of sun,
for our love turned into memory
I reached your core; it dry and cold
with no forgiveness in its immensity.

You climbed the mountains of denial
and gave into seclusion..
but I was there all time, hoping
you won't perceive me as an illusion
of the decomposed visionaire,
a concussion of a world in passions,
crucified upon pyres of destruction.

Together we watched the crimson sky
for the very last time..
where onyx-like clouds scatter,
revealing the iridiscent shards
of a heartbeat burnt down to cinder.

How I miss that wrathful winter,
the deadly gale, sleepless blizzard..
you were distant, breathless
once alive..now numb and painless
embrace my storm, my loneliness..
please forgive me, close your eyes,
but it's about time we said goodbye!