Kazuma's Poem
Perfection is a smoldering red color.
Tainted by the
most painful past,
And yet, it's as pure as fresh snow.
Beauty
is a soft sea green.
It flows like the gentle waves of ocean
water,
But without the stinging taste of bitter salt.
Love
is what I feel for her,
It burns as brightly as the sun,
Though
it makes our bright star sick and pale with grief.
Joy is
beholding her,
Snowflakes dancing around her,
Rubies caught in
her gaze.
This feeling is unlike anything else,
It's a
passion, it's a game, it's beautifully simple and harshly
complex,
But the truest, purest truth is thus:
I love her.