When love is dying

the agony is slow

as the last bridge

trembles all aglow

with fires fiercely

burning, burning, burning.

And in the black

of the star snuffed night

the leaping flames

roar with red-orange light

a terrible sight

roaring light, roaring light, roaring light.

The agony bridge

burns, burns, burns

between our set faces

and stunned hearts

and the frenzied flames

soaring, soaring, soaring.

With the blackness warring

our stricken souls

with pain are roaring

in the burning and shaking light

roaring on hell's bridge across

agony light, agony light, agony light.