Atop a hill are three old graves:

A father, mother, and a love long past.

Standing before it, emotion is stirred in waves,

And he is earning to be the last.

He reaches out to touch one stone.

Was it ten, twenty years ago?

That he came to visit here alone

Just to be able to let go.

His heart is still - no longer beating,

Yet he lives on

With centuries fleeting,

His time is frozen, yet he has not won.

That painful night he remembers well.

The flames, the deaths and the shrills,

He couldn't hold, couldn't quell

His rage as the blood chalice fills.

Will he forever be alone?

Forced by the Gods to atone

For his misdeeds of ages past

Until his soul is free at last.