What is left are the tattered rags of a flag at half mast. Nothing left but the dregs from the bottom of the barrel.
The old wine has long been drained. This vessel is empty, needing to be refilled.
There is no will left to cross over. The other side is only dimly in view. A world away. Only grace will do.
Fill this empty vessel with new wine. Fill it to the brim with divine fuel. Let it overflow.
Stuff this newly filled vessel with these tattered rags. Shake this bottle and soak these rags.
Light this broken hearted Molotov cocktail and burn it with your love. Let divine light burn brightly evermore.