It's the battlefield all over again -
blood, sweat and tears -
and he's falling, burning, gasping for breath -
her skin so warm and pliant, he wishes to be buried in the valley between her breasts.
"Christopher," she exhales -
auburn hair cascading around her pale shoulders -
and it sounds like a prayer -
wild and untamed, her face so beautiful in the dim light -
"Christopher" -
Sylvia, Sylvia, be mine.
He hates her, loves her -
and she's burning, she's burning -
needs her like the air that he breathes -
she's like fire and poison in his veins, and he surrenders.
The only woman he will ever know -
he will gladly die in her arms tonight.