His love seemed pure like streams of light
straining her pupils, so clean and white
Pristine, serene
like a dawn sunbeam
but nothing so perfect can be what it seems
His light made a long journey,
passing through time
conquering mediums along angled lines
it turned a corner, not knowing it would find
a love in her so seraphic and divine
Her light was complementary, a balance to his past
no darkness could extinguish their happiness, their laughs
But it’s not always darkness that awakens love’s wrath:
it takes light against an object
to make its shadow cast
He loved her with his soul,
but impurities are darts
that strike bullseyes in the toughest hearts
Their love was epic
but his heart had something hidden
a closer look would show that his light struck a prism
It refracted his love into fragmented visions,
pure love stripped to pieces,
escaping from a triangular prison
as painful as it was to see his true colors disperse
she realized that his flaws
could never tarnish his worth
No matter how much guilt and betrayal was in his spectrum,
nothing could stop her
from loving his imperfection
He was too weak to move the prism,
stayed on one side of the glass
hiding his white light
and leaving colors in her path
his tainted love, the residual stains
left rings on her heart to remember the pain
like the arched bow the sky casts after it rains,
her memory of white light is all that remains.

This entry was posted in Poetry.

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