"The sun is an exile; heavy velvet suffocates the day.
You were the ink spilled from my own dark soul, a second heartbeat wrapped in midnight fur.
A phantom rust crept deep into your blood.
It was a silent fire that devoured your grace, an invisible thief that stole your breath.
Now my chest is a hollow cathedral, ringing with your absence. My velvet-pawed soulmate, my miniature eclipse...
You are reduced to a heavy silence, trapped in cold porcelain.
I cradle the urn against a corset of thorns. You are gray sand now. You are the burnt residue of stars, while I am but a weeping gargoyle, anchored to the earth.
Let the bitter winds strip this pale flesh from my ribs. Let my sorrow grind my skeleton into a fine, white powder, that I might pour my own ruin into your resting place.
I crave no golden heaven, only a shadowed commingling. To mix our ashes until no god can sift the mother from the child, until the widow and her shadow are one solitary dune.
I only want to be the ash that holds you through the night.
We were forged from the shattered debris of ancient voids. The old scripture burns inside my hollow, aching chest:
For dust we are, my sweet twilight, and to dust we shall return"
I miss you, my sweet princess Mirana....
Dannath, from the illustration, belongs to my comic Atnomen