Seconds, hours, days tick by until no sound is left.

Two hearts intertwined in opposition rust to dysfunction, 

Rain washing over them, spurring red trails of what smells like blood, 

Dead passions reek with sorrow. 

Two souls at odds,

One in love, one in hate, one in hate, one in love,

Lose their grip upon sense, inaction biting their fingers raw,

And plummet into the dark below, 

Home to one, the other face in spite seeing gleaming light.

One howls in remorse to a turned back, now deaf. 

Truth rots away in silence, blown away by the silent wind, 

While words unspoken disintegrate in acid tears.

Too late, the sun sets and steals the gleaming light. 

They fall, as resolution is eaten away at the roadside, 

Swallowed by the voracious hunger of inertia.

In both, death wins transcendence. 

But it is not death, only belligerence in death’s clothes, 

Though it calls its master to finish them, 

And the scavengers descend.