The ink is owerflowing,

passing over the brim

and steadily spilling,

revealing your biggest sin.

Cheeks painted the darkest black

whith sharp thorns on your head;

you desperately want to go back

to when the one you love wasn't dead.

He disappeared before your time,

without a parting or one last glimpse of his smile;

by his own hand, he commited yet another crime,

though you know you will see him again in a while.

Your back's bleeding wounds burn

under the scorching Sun's gaze

and you feel you will soon return,

for your mind is now lost in a haze.

The world keeps turning still,

even when you are long gone,

but nothing could ever conceal

the way you refuse to mourn.

The only loyal one out of the masses

you left behind in the mortal realm

is waiting for you among the unfamiliar faces;

the sight of him has you with love overwhelmed.

You can taste the Sun on him, you find,

when his lips press to yours in a plea,

the heat no longer harsh, more of the divine kind;

without knowing he purified and set you free.