He was so many things,
Cut-throat and proud,
Transparent yet covered in shadows,
Like a diamond,
12 faces reflecting inwards,
Bouncing from wall to wall,
Catching light,
In the most breathtaking manor,

He was young and soulful,
With leather skin,
Dripping in sunlight,
Receeding slowly,
Into maturity,

He was old wine,
Suited to his age,
Sweeter with time,
But he faded,

He was so many things,
But mostly he was mine