Beyond This Realm, Margarita Juravleva Falling from Grace

You are separating bones from the flesh slowly and gently.
My soul was left somewhere. At the ruins of happiness.
Where wind had playfully ruffled my hair.
We are as a whole - the victim and the Ripper.
As it became slippery with blood.
The air is over to the lungs.
Only your soft touch again and again.
Scraps of cloth,
Remnants of outerwear and flesh.
Altar of love.
You will remain my sole.
My last recollection.
There're only shadows and darkness when you fall.
A part of myself’s the only thing I can control.
Smelling a warm moisture soil that comes closer to violent face.
My endless soul is that only, what will farther live.
You look around - your last effort.
Your ""goodbye"" - was your last word.
You can't buy me by devalue gifts.
Substitute elements in society.
Fresh air in my compressed lungs.
Last drop of happiness’ in my arms.
I'll go away with tranquil mood.
I don't fight to the final blood.
You must sacrifice yourself to him.
Tree will no grow if you not pour it.