When I leave, remember me as a poet of unbridled passion

When I leave, remember me as a poet of unbridled passion, Writing about love, life, and death, like a flame consuming the evening, But not as your husband, for I never wove that thread of fire, Our vows were merely rays scattered in the darkness of deception. When I leave, remember me as a jester of burning desires, My words brought laughter like an explosion in a silent room, But not as a comedian, for my humor was merely a double-edged sword, Our laughter was just sparks leaping from an endless fire. When I leave, remember me as a friend of the fiery evenings, Sharing thoughts on the stage of a life lived on the edge of the abyss, But not as a lover, for we were never written in the same vision, The pages of our lives were just wings of smoke in the wind's embrace. When I leave, remember me as a prisoner of your heart, In a dungeon made of silences and flames, a theater of shadow and light, But not as a beloved, for your emotions were merely raging waves, Far from me, in a place where I never had an anchor. When I leave, remember me as a stranger, a traveler through desire, Whom you never truly knew, a specter on the stage of your life, But not as a soulmate, for you are not worthy of my pain, The pain of being and no longer being, a verse lost in the tumult of night. And in this flow of thoughts, I will drift among memories like sparks, Leaving behind only the whispers of the wind, an elegy for those who are no more, Whispering of lost loves and skies never written for us, A story without end, a dream dissipating at dawn, on the edge of time.