Eyes of striking beauty, possessing a fixed hypnotic venom. Entrancing they are as there is a difficulty of looking away, of not swimming within their depths- they hold firm. 
Majestically imperial ornaments, impossible to be suited or even complemented yet, this treasure's price is less than worthless in it's carrying of the inability to truly love. Even a heart of the boldest of golds, can be far from pure. 
Less than careless regard for emotion, displaying manners so set, so "carved in stone," the ******* of steel with ones bare hands could easier be fathomed. 
Coincide well, do the plagues- emptiness, loneliness, the most solitary of confinements. Hearts now flustered, upon being tossed about on a singular accord. So it seems, nothing lost, for there is magnificent, splendid beauty to behold. Let this also soon be a lesson- nor can anything be gained. Beauty can be deceiving and venom holds the capability of death.