Burn quickly, my hearth,
Closed eyes must feel the pleasure of warmth,
Hitting hands from hearts,
Healing the harsh words from letters,
Bathing in the night,
Embedded through the darkness,
Weaving through the trees,
Poured from forest edge,
To make room for another being,
Burn quickly, my hearth,
We need not the time,
But for the standstill of eyes,
Laid upon the masterpiece of destruction
we’ve paved through the land,
Leaving a scar on the forest,
Making way for a new path,
Have haste, my heart,
Time should not be put to waste.
This is peak