The tolling of a funeral bell echoes in the distance,
Slowly…
In the damp air it lingers…

Halcyon days trickle away silently
And I stand nude in the haze
Twirling in air are shadows of words
Ashes of whispers,
Like dead leaves on a cold, late autumn's day
I am violet from the cold.
What color is violet?
It is purple,
A simple mixture of blue and crimson,
…of crimson and blue.

Shadows mourn,
From their pitiful rooms.
Silent shouts awake in my mind,
Remnants of hate that possessed me.

It came from under the door,
The overwhelming darkness
Of melodic heartbeats,
And I broke into a cold sweat,
My body contorting into a web of agony.

The wind blows gently in my face,
Shards of glass in my hair…
When it cuts,
It feels good.

She whispered something when she said goodbye,  
I wiped a tear from her face,
In the tear was frozen,
An image, an eternal twilight,
A bliss so profound,
An image of the long lost past.

The tear evanesced,
And with the tear,
We too faded,
Like glitter dispersed in a perverse mind.
And as we faded,
She took my hand,
Her delicate fingers wrapped around mine.
Luscious lips,
The color of crimson,
Brushed over mine.

Something so simple...
Yet something so erotic...

This kiss,
Would have been meaningless to someone looking in,
So enigmatic.
Yet to us,
Two souls forever locked in embrace,
Two bodies torn apart,
It meant the end.

She gazed at me,
and I at her,
So mesmerizing was she,
But the merciless wind carried her away into the horizon,
And carried me somewhere else,
Somewhere unknown.
Somewhere where I would lie nude,
Violet,
Longing to reach out
And touch the horizon one last time.