He clutched the cold midnight air with his scorched lungs and dug his face into the shadows that danced along the grass; the world spiralled into oblivion as he gasped for a touch of hope. At long last, a wretched noise echoed through the trees, but it couldn't have been his, could it?
She was gone. The white mist and bright, silver eyes had touched him and learned his innermost secrets. A murderous soul had reached into him and torn his every vein to shreds. Now, wedded and bedded, she lies with another man. Oh, the horror, the torture!
A hand, soft but not gentle, warm but not endearing, kind but not loving, reaches for him. He turns away.
How dark and sinister he has become - how many lonely nights he has withstood!
A dark swirl covers his face, and full red lips drown him in a kiss! a kiss of splendor and magnificence! a kiss of stars, supernovas, and forces of dark matter! so sweet and mysterious, so full of promise!
He takes her to his bed of roses and picks a thorn to place in her chest; she responds with a smile that, to this day, blankets the sky with velvet. Oh, woe is he who finally falls! Woe is he who finally feels the touch of a woman!