His words.
Sardonic, Sharp and Stabbing
Replaced the austere, fragrant garlands of letters
That adorned his speech, felicitating me with the love he claimed he had.
For two months he waltzed me around the dark ballroom of lies
Until the day came and he stood there, hands clutching my hair shameless and merciless
And pushed my naive face into a bucket of ice and water
Letting the truth of life and the depth of his betrayal
Scar and Bruise me until the end of time.

We were like two pebbles from the same stone,
Both rough, jagged and deformed by the merciless beatings of our past
We rubbed onto each other, at a time, when each where knocked out cold
Alone in the frigid, glacial interiors of a dungeon called life.
We collided hard and fast, trying to share the pain and keep warm
From the cold, calculating breezes of pain and isolation.
A spark ignited between us, marking the end of the whippings of torture.
We let go of our chains, wrapping our arms tight together,
As the spark swiftly consummated with the oxygen, giving birth
To a child so fierce, so driven, as fueled as fire,
Melting the glaciers and warming up the frigid winds,
And burning out the wounds and lacerations of a time less pleasant,
Wrapping us into it’s talons, vowing to be our knight in shining armour:
A Knight we named Love.