While I tried drifting to numb undying pain

Parts of me were close to their still fingertips. 

Ready to tap like sheets of ice.

My passion spoke clearly through a fire,

"A twisted Romeo returns you undead;

Scrolling up and down at a crumbling back porch."

Looking down, why did I take it?

Like sheets of paper?

My words are binding badly.

Confusing the court... word...

It turns back to me.

I forcibly turn on my back.

When I drift the lake of fire it's me against nothing.