The Incense At My Funeral

I'm wanting to know that you are part of the fire, yet should you know better than to go running off into the fields. so i stand in the distance hoping that we can stop ourselves. I know our love is a lying depression and pain feels cheated. i can only wonder why hope still fears pain. i wanted to know how to find a personal devastation but instead i now dazzle in the tasteful fire that encircles the incense at my funeral. i can love the making of our legend, and it pushes me in the wrong direction, towards the answer to the question that you have been asking me for decades. yet you don't know what you want anymore.
and it seems to me, that all love has ever wanted to know, is what she wants. and i haven't felt that in years. i know that when somebody loved me, everything was beautiful. but all i see now is the dead flowers by my grave.