The crashing of thousands

Will ring out when it bursts.

The end of the world is

My last day with you.

Crouched underneath so many

Lights that I've never seen.

The prayer I whisper is for you,

And yours for me, I'm sure:

The prayer from long ago that

You helped me carry back upstairs.

Maybe this is how we are

Going to get ourselves back.

It starts with me

And you, my dear.

Hold your candle again in the dim

Of a never-ending crash.

Wave from the backseat,

The one who caused it.

Now I find you for comfort;

You're so beautifully static.

But how long will it be before

Someone else responds to my goodbye?