He was an enigma machine,
he guarded his secrets with military precision,

She was an open book,
one that no one ever finishes,

They were tragic,
one said nothing, while the other said to much,

One stood tall and ramrod straight,
the other depended on a broken crutch,

Both were destitute,
One was loud, the other was mute,

He suffered in reticence,
she was filled with penitence,

They both left the world of their own accord,
They chose to fall upon their own swords,

They were heartbreaking until the very end.