Nobleman
The deeds he did,
that merely made her joyous.
The words he spoke,
how they warmed her soul.
The gifts he gave,
that did nothing less than lift her spirits.
His smile sweet and gentle,
his gaze so easy and the eyes that gazed upon her,
so brilliant in a shimmering tone of blue tinted with flecks of copper.
All is lost,
she misunderstanding why this fate of unbelievable and ghastly nature,
is to even exist.
Behind newly formed bars of pretentious love,
rustic with vile thoughts sought to heed revenge,
rustic with the longing to shape to equality her formally dismembered life,
and to end this streak of shattered elation.
So there she sits upon her throne in her perpetual world of salty tears,
that fell so mercilessly,
and smeared with the blood from her thrashed heart.
Immense darkness engulfing her in a disguise of woes and sobs,
as begging to find a true sight of reason,
why this misfortune was slain unto her.
All she desires is an answer,
why his abandonment of her formed between them,
why he left her so alone and helpless,
now a solemn outcast in a disregarding world.
Feeling so misguided, lost in an unknown realm of fictional abundances,
wanting now to perish more than ever.
A diminutive sum of hope left to help her,
the everlasting strain to again find a purpose worthy and willful enough to fill her gaping wound.
So as she sleeps in rest upon a bed of forged amends, it being so horrid,
she hears...
Ping! The lock that was holding the gates fast,
enclosing her for unmeasurable time lost after she swore to never draw a grateful breath,
as she made the promise to drown all emotion,
as she dared herself to pose as so until she withered away,
that lock is broken...
With dwindling faith still left within herself,
honesty settled on her lips,
her eyes rest forth upon a noble matter...
He so dares to seek her heart after it has suffered,
great loss she gained,
and a strong passion gained in past she lost.
Is this the substance of greater force than her own loathing,
worthy over and beyond to cease her anguish and mourning?
Is he what she has been waiting for in patient distress,
to arrive,
to gather her up in his own passion?
His is a new Nobleman to her,
he with mysterious eyes of kindness and loveliness,
at the same time being flooded with sorrow and grief.
Maybe from his past this shows in his iris,
a skeptical illusion of fear perhaps,
apparent so equal to his bold form.
There he stands so noble still and yet,
shame not arising from his forthright stature.
He was so gorgeous as the most humblest, simplest words could say.
Not a whisper of evil summoned his bones,
not a flick of distrust flamed in his heart.
Only the pure lust of a wondrous soul,
buried beneath his flexing, breathing skin.
Oh! how she had waited for another of his kind to stand before her,
how she thought it was impossible for her to ever be loved again.
How magnificent it felt to be so wrong,
and her own assumptions contradicted.
Only time will tell whether he is to be destined to be her savior, to be her Nobleman...
