What mirrors in your eyes!
What loathsome breaths, that spill from your mouth,
Like the vapor that reaches the glass
Of a window.
What music in your sadness,
What a heart that shows no sign of gladness.
You will never have love,
Not with your broken form.
You have a face that reminds me of glass,
You have a form that has been shattered,
But, the beauty to your visage remains.
An expression that has been painted
By those of refinement to every move.
Do not turn from me,
For I want to see what I once loved,
What I once admired,
Being the face that shows no real sign of breaking.
There is no sign of scarring
Among such delicate features,
Just a few somber breaths, from a time gone in history,
Just a delicate tear for me to swipe away,
Just a lake at your ankles,
Just a sight of what I see,
Being a woman I once believed, to be for me.