My love was so beautifully tragic,
A truly miserable arrangement of fragile personas.
As intertwined limbs laid quiet a night
I realised I was far too invested to turn back.
My love was so sadly misfortunate,
A rusting halo laid above him constantly.
Although, it was inevitably lost
It was hearty and pure and the least bit grim
My love was a wanderer of faults
One that was learning how to mend.
Pass the never-ending fragments of his past,
He desires nothing more than to truly feel.
My love was a victim of his past,
A soul of long lost time and assaults.
With tragedies hard to climb and bare
He whispers his humanity to be a night.
My love was so impossibly pure
A combustion of unwanted passion
A place to feel wanted and sound
With it, I became calm and gentle
My love was so benignly inane
A truly forbidden court.
Although it was never one to search for
It was one I would never regret.
My love was made by a bonded deal
One of clouded fire and burning void
For better or worse, “We’re to heal each other,
Or far fall and together be destroyed”
And together, without hesitation, we fell, like the beautiful tragedy we were, one that could never compare- the greatest lovers in hell.