We walk high fields, Sky around grey. Your hand I cherishingly wield, You're engulfed in flames, your pain weighs. We spin, wind on skin, Faster and faster, Adrenaline keeps us standing balanced, Love and blaze consume us, our master, Townspeople coming close— Pitchforks high and red-drenched— I felt time nearly froze— Our hands forever clenched. Everything has dulled, I see only you: Fallen, unmoved. Your face burnt, Ripped by fire... We've died, But our blasphemous blaze burns higher...
