The Last Thing

It was the last thing,
that belonged to her.
A modest smile and calm eyes,
retaining me into this world.

With a lot of pain,
I set it on fire.
And let it turn to ashes,
while it turn me into a pyre.

For the ashes in my hand,
are my own and not hers.
For it was my smile I burnt,
to break free of this illusion.

Now my real face can show,
dead eyes and a lost smile.
And this tombstone in place of my face,
can let me rest in the arms of comforting grief.