Unfading

What comes to mind now, do you know?
The moment I sit to write of you, madness takes hold.

An invisible fear circles me always—
though your memories blur and fade,
something keeps chasing me down, again and again.

Tears spill across my cheeks,
the pen's ink runs dry,
even the last flicker of the candle before me—
whispers its message of extinction in a sudden wind.

Why can't I forget the touch of you?
Let me go.