This is where she offered her final gift
to someone she believed she could make whole,
someone she had decided deserved her happiness.
He took it
to satiate a hunger that mocked her compassion,
to fill a void that devoured her flame—
a fire that burned so bright
she was blinded by her own naïveté.
I had tried to warn her,
screamed for her to see,
but gentleness was the only language she spoke.
So she whispered soft words
to quiet my fears,
as though tragedy had deceived me.
He laughed as
he exposed his plot and how easily he had broken her soul.
The sound had sliced through her,
unveiling a truth she had refused to know.
What shattered was innocence—
an unwavering faith that good always conquers,
that an evil like his could not exist.
As a final act of cruelty
he turned his back while she reached for him,
crying out his name.
This is where I found her,
crumpled and battered past repair,
in a puddle of grief.
I tried to breathe life into her,
but my breath was too dark to fit.
Her delicate body lies so light now,
hollowed and empty.
My last act of grace
will be to protect her final moment,
to guard a dying purity never meant for this world,
to return the only warmth I had ever known.
I pull her close,
pressing her against my chest,
hoping the angry pulse of my heart
could somehow make hers beat again.
Praying her wings grow wider,
to carry her higher still,
I pour the love she once gave me
into a single vow:
I will tear every inch of him apart
and use his ego as a mirror
to destroy him the way he ruined her.