When no one was around she was there for you.
She loved and cared for you
You left her,
you ripped her soul apart,
and burned her spirit.
You sucked out her love.
You took her everything,
leaving behind only cinders.
Now she was a phantom, only an image of what she used was
watching the remains of her being, but unable to collect them.
Who would love the cinders that you left behind?
Who would make her, her again?