“‘Is this the end?’ the loved one asked, her ash’nd flesh flaking away.
‘If it is, hold on tightly to me,’ he whispered to her,
Wiping a tear from her face, he kisses her forehead one last time…
their world is burning, their future taking from their grasps;
of needing each other, but they know they couldn’t have one another.
They can’t be separated, because they are apart of one another.
A soul and soul combined, a heart and heart mended together,
they know each other’s wants and needs, desires and fantasies,
they know more about their other self than they know about their own.
Finally caught, they’re ripped apart, Both braced and forced in separate ways,
The man strapped to the death pole, the weapon pointed to his heart.
The woman looking in disbelief and shock, ‘No…’ she gasps
‘I love you Aya,’ he looks over the killer where she is their to watch,
the death of her love…
She brings the back of her hand to her mouth to suppress a sob,
a sob of remorse of not being more careful, of being more stealthy,
‘NO!’ her scream pierced the sky as the gun clicked; ready.
He looks straight at his killer, the murderer.
‘Tahiri!!!’ she screams. Urging to protect him,
yet know there is nothing that can be done.
The man pulls the trigger; milli-seconds pass,
Time stops; time rushes by,
he sees the bullet coming toward him,
going to embed his chest and enter his heart.
His heart that loved Aya so much, His heart that loved Aya too much,
He smiles and remembers Aya, holding Aya, comforting Aya,
Aya telling him she loves him. Aya always being there for him,
The sweet, loving Aya that is so fragile, soft, pinky cheeks and long fiery hair,
Aya, with graceful, pearl white body, so beautiful in the moonlight,
Sweet tender Aya, so caring and happy….
The bullet enters his chest, and with a rush, exhales sharply,
as gravity pulls him to the ground,
all he can think of, all he ever will think of;
Aya, Aya, Aya….”