• His hair was fine and pure,
    But now his heart is so scarred it doesn't have a cure.
    I tried to mend it,
    To no avail, it didn't help one bit.
    I would give a kiss
    To those chapped lips of his.
    At that he used to smile,
    Even if only for a little while.
    It was better than now
    Where his head stays bowed.
    Now he's hollow,
    And I tell you that is terribly hard to swallow.
    He used to have a gleam in his eye,
    But it fluttered away with a solitairy goodbye.
    His words used to flow like a river
    As of now they don't even come out in a sliver.
    His clothes were always crisp and fine,
    Now they fray at the seams line.
    Under all this is a blackened heart
    Falling apart.
    I tried to sew it back together,
    But ever so more it withered.
    I love him you see,
    We would always be with each other as busy as bees.
    He'd give chaste kisses,
    He hardly ever stared at the other misses.
    If you look carefully at his face,
    You can see something as fine as silken lace.
    Beauty is what it be,
    Divine as the sea.
    No more or less,
    I believe it is a lovely darkness.