Gosh, I wrote some dark stuff in high school. This was another thing I wrote while we were studying The Road  by Cormac McCarthy. 

 Final Lover

I hang above her and I stand beside her, silent and patient.

When the world burned there was no shortage of companions for me. But where now is the sport? I drift above everything, everyone, and every minute I take a new lover into sweet oblivion with me. They think to resist me, mostly, but they all come eventually.