Halls that Burn Like Wicker in A Furnace

Exquisite shapes fill the corners,.  
Once darkened and blemished,.  
There are other things at work here,.  
Rather than just the love between you and me,.  
A fire burns in the middle of the living room,.  
Scorching every last beautiful thing we made,.  
We set up to fail,.  
We set up to divide what is united,.  
Thus the story of life,.  
Like the halls of Rome,.  
Like the pyres of the Gods,.  
We sit in our heads and think,.  
How everything will falter,.  
When will we again see,.  
That this life is chances,.  
Regardless of how it will end,.  
Behindhand of results,.  
We burn it all down like effigies,.  
Little dolls of our future that we think we can so clearly see,.
Why did you come to me,.
When you knew it will not end well,?
Before anything could begin,.
You put the fire of death,.
Into the heart of the future,...,.,.,