A gaze of ice,

A tongue sharp

As broken glass

Hair dark as

The midnight sky

Speckled lightly with

Stars of gossamer.

As long as his head was.

His nose,

Sharp at the bridge,

Though slightly thick at the base.

Of lips,

His were sharp,

Thin,

Compacted,

Color a pink,

Dusty rose.

His face shape

Was thin,

Long.

He was tall.

And, he was a dark knight,

With his staff

Of gold magic

Held high,

Proud.

He stood

As a king of many.

Of voices,

I have heard none

That were finer.

His parentage

Was as unpure as

The word that could spill

From his mouth.

He was a prince,

Of many things,

But only one

Was he king of.

Prince he was by birth

Of the giants of frost.

By adoption,

Prince of Asgard.

But only king he was

Of my heart.