The air is a bitter taste of absinth.

Tears of the night, fall unto me.
Succumb into a silent dilemma born from long ago.
Days of torment and torture begone.
As we wound up in a new dawn.

Let the screams of the sirens beckon thee.
As we both run towards her.
Hand in hand, we scream.
To hell with all the sadness we feel.

As I end this bitter letter,
I fall into a deep trance of pain,
yet, I lift my head and gaze above.
A better day, to us, soon will come.

To my dearest.