A/N: This is a technical exercise in writing to iambic pentameter and with the correct rhyming pattern. As always, any feedback is welcome. All characters and environments belong to BioWare.
Colours
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Skin burnished bronze, with lines of silver hue;
Deep olive eyes reflecting bitter pain;
The power of his aura burning blue,
Fired by the need to live without his chains.
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His ice-white hair falls soft across his face,
A contrast to his muscles, lean and sharp.
He wields his sword with power, strength and grace
And loves the same: all passion, heat and heart.
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The token round his wrist is crimson bright,
Red as the city streets where many bled.
He wears it to remind him of that night,
The night he gave, and took, and feared, and fled.
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He loved her then, a fighter tough as hide.
He loves her still, is always by her side.