And sweetest gasps of breath from thee

But not enough I fear

For I am lacking in something great

And left with glimpses of raw rage

Snatched from what is left of humanity

But what sets our souls aflame

Is it the howling dark that whips about

Or possessing joy that is the bright

Lines of fire that follow lovers lips

Blazing and shining on enemies weapon

What are we, but clutching

Filthy creatures, instinct and hope

Clinging and holding in the cold of the world

And reveling in what little bliss we have left