Ch 418: The final draft.
He wrote his verse, a zenith—
A final draft for his love,
Unchanged and untouched,
A fantasy of the human world.
He lit the fire, he saw it bloom,
Swallowed whole by flames of doom.
He burned his heart with his soul—
A funeral pyre beyond control.
Embers kissed his forbidden skin,
Killing him slowly with gentle grace.
Death was kind, pulled him in,
Wearing a calm upon her face.