She haunts my thoughts, as I lay awake in my bed tonight, or any night for that matter. It is early in the evening already, and my restless mind cannot escape from the precious image of her, Eowyn. At just the sight of her, I can feel the twitch of anxiety contorting my insides, shifting my body about in such an unhuman way. My heart goes weak when she enters the room, her soft, lovely lips smiling pitifully at my pathetic being, so much hate in her glance. In my mind, I hear a meek whisper saying "I love you," but those words are never to be heard by her ears from my tongue. What could I possibly tell the girl, that I am madly in love with her and everything she is? Shall I get down on my knees and proclaim my ever-lasting oath of eternal love to her, and carry her swooning self onto my white steed as we fly off into the sunset on my castle in a cloud? No, I would say not. Men like me…things like me cannot do things like that without receiving a cold, blunt laugh forced in his face. If I were to do a thing like that, no one would be able to take me seriously anymore, let alone her.
She is the pink lining of a glorious setting sun and the silver speckles of a seductive rising moon. Her hair is a golden, shimmering fountain of beauty that I would bathe in every morning if only she would care to hear my cries of undying love. She hates me, despises me, I can see it in her empty eyes. Such magnificent, enchanting, empty eyes. I see myself in her eyes, a damned, lonely, disgusting being I am. But she! What does she see in the reflection of my eyes? How does she see herself, I wonder.
As the days go by, I watch her, everywhere; at her window, in her garden, in the halls, at night when she rests her fragile figure in bed, I creak open her door and watch her through the cracks, counting her breaths. "87, 88, 89," and somehow I always loose track and count again, but tonight I will not do that. No, not I. Tonight I try to forget the Lady Eowyn and all the things about her that make me ill inside. But tonight, I will fail to stop loving her.
For she is the darkness, and in the end, I will succumb to it, for I am only mortal.
