The following is a poem by Amy Bells and me. Every first stanza is mine, every second stanza is hers.
I found myself a dying sun,
I lay ashore, all mem’ries gone,
Beneath a sky of crimson clay,
Where every world spends its last day.
The dusty sand beneath my form
I used to love looks so forlorn.
The waves crash down with energy
They do not wish to share with me.
I am tired of it all,
Sick to death, I take the fall
Down into the void, abyss,
Without parting glass or kiss.
You will not find me here tomorrow,
I have drowned myself in sorrow,
The bleakest darkness of my past
Swells in the distance like a mast.
I shall not parish, all the same,
Your world is evil and insane,
Yet I shall rise again at last,
While you’ll be buried in the past.