The world was on fire

Everything looked a bit grey but you felt warm by my side.

At least I wasn't alone, but to admit that I liked it felt foul.

Rain was pouring from my window on a cold December night. Beggars asking for money or redemption which I have none.

I was having random thoughts about what makes you alive and what makes you you. 

But none came out. At least not from my mouth.

Then there was tears and nonsense. Sour nonsense filled with apathy.

The world was on fire.