She was made of Pearls
Her skin a delicate graft
of Sapphire
Soul sophisticated emeralds
A most valuable treasure
in the world
He lit a fire in her heart
Bright flames Burning bright
Enough to burn galaxies
And reduce mountains to ash
A passion so masochistic
A desire so strong
Obsessive
It consumed her
Yet
She was made of Pearls
And all he wanted was
To dig treasure
And so he did
Carved the delicate sapphires
from her skin
Where deep Scars remain
Like giant pebbles in a river
Stole the precious emeralds
from her soul
As he broke her heart with his
soft spoken lies
Yet
She was made of Pearls
And he got none
He was a red herring
Which soon drifted away
She thrifted in the Pain of love
A black fantasy, a black hole
That punched a void in her chest
And rendered her heart stale
Yet
She was made of Pearls
And the pearls fell in her tears
And weaved down all the oceans
Until she was no more
Now he looks for her pearls
In the oysters of the oceans
More valuable than
*Her
Love is strange. One moment, it is the the most beautiful thing in the world. The other, an existential nightmare. Hope, it is always the former for you.