The night falls in a heavy, suffocating cloak, entwined by our passions.
Such emotion for which you sacrifice yourself
flares once, then dies,
only to be swallowed by your sorrow.
Hope can not endure such pain.
Your passion throbs once more,
but only once.
How could you let our love tear into asunder?

These leftover shadows surround us,
we have lost our light
all hope is lost.

These day’s turn into a cinder,
a dying flame left in the wind,
only to be snuffed out.