Caressing the sky with a soft, simple sigh, he walks a path of dead leaves and cracked cement. As he walks, his meaningful world is falling apart. Never to be scar free, he trudges on despairingly. Carrying a lighter in his left hand jacket pocket he feels it as if it is the only thing that holds the last of his sanity. He holds it close to his heart. He holds it as if it were his true love. He protects it as if one hit would kill that which he holds so dear. Whispering to it tenderly with a saddening voice, he swears upon the glowing stars that he will never part from its side. This he promises unto the night sky, “I will never leave you. I will never leave you for another. Kiss my arms with your burning heat. Lick my legs with your fiery passion. Let me smell the red hot love you have for my flesh.” Holding the lighter tightly in his hand, he has sworn this into the night. He has sworn this upon the night shadows that seem to contort the world at their will. In his right hand jacket pocket, he holds a pen. The tip slightly bent from making love to the lighter, he etches his hearts only thoughts into his skin. “To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world,” is etched onto the inside of his left ankle. “Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so,” he etches onto the inside of his left wrist with a smile filled with tears caused by the loss of the one who truly made him feel like all the world was holding still. On the inside of his right arm he burns fading tears all the way down his arm giving each tear a meaning for having loved his one true angel. He gives each one a depth of meaning that only that of the pyromaniac that holds the burning pen will ever understand. The fire teases his ever waking movement. The fire burns his skin with such a loving bite that he never wants it to stop until his love has returned. Having been driven to madness from losing his one true love to that of another, his mind is filled with nothing but flames. Flames that call to him with a fading voice that used to belong to his now lost love. He wonders why the call is fading when it used to call to him with such passion that he could not stop listening. He wonders why the voices in his head are dying with a watery gurgle. Having stepped into a lake the fires call has been broken. The burning flesh suddenly doesn’t smell so sweet like it used to. Suddenly he realizes that he is free. Suddenly he realizes that he can live on. Suddenly he has finally found a reason to live. To live on for the love that he might see once yet again.