You stand where the night devours itself,
drowned in the sickly glow of dying stars.
The air does not move it waits,
as if it fears your departure more than I.

Take my hand, if hands still matter,
if the flesh is not yet weary of grasping.
Beyond the horizon, the void hums,
a song without memory, without end.

Would you stay, if the sky collapsed?
If the gods turned their backs, indifferent?
I would cast my name into the fire,
let time devour me, if only to remain.

So let the dark stretch infinite and cruel,
I will walk where shadows have no shape.
And if you call, I will follow
not as a man, but as a whisper in the abyss