• And though the warm,
    tender hearted love that was true
    prevailed in hearts of two,
    one could not accept the challenge at hand.
    He waited for her gentle words and touch
    but did not know what had become of her.
    In a heap at the base of a tree
    her limp and lifeless corpse lay.
    Her tortured grey eyes staring at the murderess,
    whose name was Love.
    The cruelest of all fates be,
    Death on the behalf of passion.
    He pleaded for her breath
    to once again mingle with his own,
    yet he knew it would not be.
    He feared the darkness she had been accepted into
    and longed for her back.
    His mourning became the enemy.
    Shots being fired from one hand,
    among innocent bystanders.
    The only one able to stop it, gone
    as if she had never been.
    Her heart – shattered when he had left.
    Though she had never heard his please
    for her to never give up.
    Never give up without a fight.
    His warnings went unnoticed
    as her icy heart frosted over and her once warm, gentle life
    collapsed.
    Her life taken by Love,
    and his own hand.
    He failed to save her
    and reprimanded himself for it.
    His rage and weakness,
    no longer covered and balanced by her own,
    went uncontrollably crazy.
    Her life,
    though long gone,
    was stolen away into the cruel hands of the man.