Perfection
By: -Sanguine Ire-
Age has caressed her silky hair; age has touched her well.
Her eyes kindled with fire alight yet her body does not tell.
She lies upon the king-sized bed we both shared for forty years, the bed we made two children with, and the bed we shared our tears.
How I loathe the way I grow and that of her very own.
My years promise strength and well while hers breaks on this road.
Now there she is on her deathbed there as if to fall asleep,
A sleep that'll last a life time and leave behind her keeps.
She called me to her side and held my hand in hers, the smile she gave to me was anything but perturbed.
She called my name the sweet tone rim, the tears that mar my eyes; she touched my callused fingers and said her last goodbye.
I couldn't help but held her close to stop her from leaving, the sorrow that leads my path is just too overwhelming.
She hushed me up and kissed my lips her smile still so bright, the azure eyes I fell in love with still shining bright.
And now she whispered to me, the sweet sound that I heave, she said to me "Vegeta, please do not mourn, from my death that you will see that I will never leave."
I reply with a silent grunt instead of words she wants, I wanted to break down the wall but yet my sins they still taunt.
I hope she catches the way I held her, the words I have to keep, I hope she'll be right beside me and stay within me deep.
Of all the years we had together the silence that I gave, the observation within me was the demonstration of crave.
My angel has flown to catch me high above the clouds, now here she is dying, and yet I'm still astound
The day I had followed her, the gratitude I had, but never may I show her this for I am but a fool.
I still tend to keep things quiet, still remain my cool.
But what good will my façade do, what will it make?
Will it keep my love from death, and make it all ok?
There she goes to close her eyes her grasp on me come loose
Here I am holding her as if my arms were a noose
"I love you" I whispered, can you still hear?
Is your spirit lingering…right over here?
From the day my eyes have glance upon you I know what perfection was
And from that lesson that you have taught me, I know what perfection does
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A/N: This is one of those poems that are remotely tear jerking, I was sniffling when I wrote this, it's about the death of Bulma and Vegeta's POV about it. Please R/R and tell me what you think regardless how negative or positive your comments are!
Disclaimer: I do not own those characters. .