Last Good-bye

 

I once thought the spark inside,
I felt, could become a flame,
but I know, now, it's only what's left,
what remains, a burnt-out ember,
the charred remnants of you and me
and our last, few, pitiful moments together.

Now, at last, the spark is dead
and a chill wind springs at our backs.
As it whistles through the bare trees
I can hear the seconds ticking away,
one less, one less, one less,
constant, imperturbable, unyielding.

What comes after this life? Nothing...
an infinite, sorrowed grieving -
the past, the present and no future.
Now what is left to us?
Tick, tick, tick, none left to go.
Say your last good-bye....