Hold fast Words that do not mix Well with the dust of stars, With the fuel for flames, With the ashes of a thousand homes Crumbling beneath the house of God. Your words are fickle As the breeze that does not stand still. You move across Oceans, as easily as landscapes. When will Autumn not cross you Atop the lakes, nor the mountains While petals fall off your eyes Deep in the nighttime garden? Your face Is my reason to breathe In the winds of winter. When summer reigns, I am consigned To be yours, As you are mine. Your suffering is a pill of anguish Fallen over the stones for our pacing. Life is the startled horse, at times, That motions the carriage towards the abyss. Oh, my love, Leave the waters empty of contents To your fallen tears. I will wield you in loving hands, As the whispers come Of mournful darkness. Funerals are there to depart, While marriages overcome Their empty space, In the contours, in the lace, Of each smile, we cannot waste. I love like the last holocaust Cannot ever be a thing to see us face The arbitrary flame of decay. Whatever lasts In arms, as cold as the rivers Beneath your eyes, Will be made for Dreams that do not hide.