Author's Note: Well, I wrote this for myself originally, about an ex who broke my heart. But when I was reading it this morning I realized that it sounded abit like something that could apply to Faye Valentine and her silent love for Spike. So I decided to post it. It's really dark and depressing and melodramatic, so be forewarned. But I hope you like it. Please tell me what you think.
This Is Love
She clings to him as the day fades silently,
relinquishing its delicate futile hold
on the cold, harsh, dying world.
Night explodes violently into being to take day's place,
and without mercy it calls all life
into its gaze of hatred and despair.
And even the dark one she holds to her heart
is tortured by night's star-pale eyes.
And still she clings to him, lovingly.
He is strong and dark, beaten and bright --
broken by the swift change of life and death,
yet glowing with the last hopeful rays of starlight.
He is battered more with each moment of life's pain,
and his heart grows cold and impenetrable.
And as he stands with lowered head
he never sees nor cares that she is there.
And still she clings to him, hopefully.
Her hands are clasped before her in prayer,
sendng her never-ending hope to the stars.
And even as she prays, her arms enfold him
and her brilliant gaze does not leave his face.
Hers is a soul that has shed all her hope,
and all the feeble light she possesses
to weave him a bright and noble cloak.
And still she clings to him, desperately.
Though he sheds and discards the cloak of her light,
and forgets it was ever there, she stays.
Her unwavering eyes wrap him in protective crystal,
to save him from his own dark fears.
But he shatters the crystal with one cold glance,
and though she cannot pretend she does not see this,
she strives to shield him once again.
And still she clings to him, painfully.
Her heart throbs with his every tear.
his pain becomes her eternal anguish,
and his indifference is a poison to her soul.
Her death comes every night with a thought of him,
whispering promises of rest and release.
Yet she is betrayed to the morning sun every day,
and rebirth tortures her with the desperate need for him.
And still she clings to him, eternally.
Though she is tortured by knowing there is no life with him,
that he cannot and will not acknowledge her existence,
still she stays by his side.
The fibers of her very soul are knotted to him;
they vibrate with the rythm of his breathing
and the evershifting shades of his voice,
but does not know or does not care.
And still she clings to him, in death.
He is beatn more with every passing hour,
by the savagry of the sun, the violence of life.
The pain numbs his soul, almost to the point of madness,
until finally, his heart despais,
and his life abandons the rough shell of his body.
And she is forced to watch him die, then die with him,
clinging to a man who will not or cannot love her.