Retrograde De Lachryma (Reversal Of Tears)

He was made of art;
Down to his very soul...

And she wept...
For she could never touch
What was unattainable...
For someone like her;
Stitched together from sadness,
Wept from the depths of misery,
Conjured from the sweet torment
That lies in death's frigid embrace.

His eyes crystalline quicksilver;
As if the very lachryma
Forever raining in her heart
Had drowned all of the colour
From his prismatic world...

She never saw anything
In those fallen ashes,
Save for her own breathing filth,
Sentient and derelict...
And the forbidden beauty
That lies awash within.

No matter how much
She believed in the magic
That lied in her coveted dreams...
She could not find a way
To conjure quicksilver
From the mercurial abyss.

And all that she was...
Died. ♥