Painted in my memory

[GhostMachine]

Searching through the echoes of paintings,
my mind fills with memories,
dreams that were created,
the downfall of only being destroyed.

Her voice still resonates so sweetly,
while knowing that she'll never be with me,
the bitterness of loving nothing,
echoes in my heart forever on.

Cold nights full of fiery embrace,
flames licking wooden logs,
though the warmth never caresses my face,
and as the fog forms from my breath,
my eyes slip into the back of my head.

While dreams fill my evenings,
the vacant memories of where I went fade,
while the morning darkness searches for safety,
my eyes burn in the rising sun...

And still dismal skies cover overhead,
the decadence of my state only pushes me to break from this place,
and in finding no freedom in the hills above the world,
I close my eyes to dream of hell.