There is nothing left.
Even the ashes of love
have scattered
in the storm
of your screaming rage
Even the shadow
of my devotion
has been devoured
by the darkness
in your eyes.
There is nothing left,
yet here I am.

The night was a woman
Screaming and clawing
The storm was a man
With passion like rage
They made love
In blinding furies
And this obliteration
Of land and people
Is their climax