He sat beside her, amidst piles of rubble.
Her once lilac skirts were singed and torn,
Smudged by soot and stained with blood.
Blonde curls scattered about her head
In a tangled halo.
His face was pale and his expression was full of mind numbing sadness.

He had seen the explosion from the roof,
And known that his love was affected.
He ran as fast as he could,
But all along, he knew he would be too late
To save her life.

With the pad of his forefinger
He traced the outline of her blooded lips,
Attempting to soothe her pained whimpers.
Her blue eyes shone with pain as they stared into his golden ones,
Only to screw shut at the frequent spasms of pain her nerves forced upon her.

"Tell me again," she whispered brokenly.
"Tell you what?" tears ran down his face
Like glittering crystals.
"Tell me … you love me."
"I love you with all my heart and soul, and I always will."
A sob caught in his throat as he touched her blackened hand and arm.
But he remained relatively composed
As flecks of dead skin stuck to his hand.
His life was dying before him, and he couldn't save her if he tried.

"Angel," she rasped, her breaths becoming thinner, and her eyes dimmed a bit.
"Sh, my love, you mustn't tax yourself."
"We both know … I have five … five minutes at best." Her eyes began to roll as she gasped the words.
A sob broke through his weakening façade.
"I made a mis … mistake. But I felt … safe."
Her words became quieter and her breath came in shuddering gasps.
"I did love him you … know."
"I know."
"But … I love…" Her mouth formed the word 'you'
And as she exhaled for the last time,
The weak gust of air let her say it, "you."

Hard tears splashed from his eyes onto her face and neck
As they sang the bitter requiem
Of lost love returned too late.
Sobbing, he checked her wrist for the fluttering of a pulse.
He found none.

A glimmer caught his eyes
And in the pools of her blood lay a shard of glass.
"My life is over," he whispered.
And he picked up the dripping glass,
Causing her life's blood to dribble down his wrist.
With a bitter shudder, he put the glass to his wrist
And began to cut.

Their blood mixed and ran in crimson rivers down his arms and into the ground.
He watched it flood into the fabric of her dress
And he waited for Death to take him.
For without her…
He was nothing.