They Spoke Their Last...

Shadows haunt my every step, silhouettes reminding that I am the source of pain in others
I have caused this, a result of my own selfish needs
No regard, and now, a crippling silence like a knife
A love like gunpowder
What have I done?
Regret
Stumbling in the dark, in a storm
Unable to see, or even feel, each part as a whole

"You're holding on to things long dead, let it go
This will destroy you"

I try to drown my sorrows, but it seems that they swim well
These endeavours only ever lead to failure and self-destruction
Whispered across the narrows of her gentle breath, reflected in the depths, her eyes of glass
She is the sombre sleep of winter's night, the gripping cold of death's first kiss
And I remember the last she spoke to me
Now, standing at the edge of it all seems somewhat surreal
Body and mind detached, as if seeing myself through your eyes, and it's cold

Am I a good man?
I speak in tongues to mask the message, and I drink to my annihilation