A memory.

I’m a dying flame.

Further introduction would be obligatory.

I’m just your usual protagonist,

Nearing the end of his story.

As I fight for my final breaths,

She reaches my ear.

“Take me with you,”

She says in a whisper.

It’s painful yet ironical,

But my death would certainly kill her.

I stare blankly at her.

I see hope. I see melancholy.

I see a sense of tragedy.

As I dance around the edge of abyss,

I see all that I’m never going to see.

The last thing that I remember,

Is the infinity of her eyes;

Scaling the whole world for me.

Isn’t it hauntingly beautiful,

When a man turns into a memory.