Night comes. Bury the dead. Pray they won’t haunt you.

But he still holds onto her. He stays there until the last half breath leaves her body. She had told him she loved him just a minute before the blood spread across her chest. And his god forsaken voice said he didn’t love her back. Now look what they’d become.

His sweet songful voice fills the air as she closes her heavy eyelids.

“tu éclaires mon monde

tu embrasses mes douces lèvres

tu me tiens jusqu'à la fin des nuits

le soleil et la lune”

Those words, those words over and over again. The words she wrote for him while he wept. Those words she used to comfort him.

He still heard the gun-shots ringing in his ears. Those god dammed shots that killed his best friend.

His phantom song traced the land, even after he left it. You can still here a weeping voice singing “le soleil et la lune.” As his best friend wilted away.