She was the soulmate,
the neighbour of my unbounded heart
whose even, sharp beats
could never foretell fights to be,
but could bring untold laughter.

She was the real light herself
that could show the heart
the will of the way.
Her cheeks with light embroidered.
I remember her cheeks could wear that smile
that could even bring a dying soldier to life.
The true, false smile that the angel Lucifer
once showed to God so he could
sing hallelujah in heaven.
Her lips were like water
that could wash away
the dirty script on my face.
Her walk was closer
to the way real angels might walk,
no more, no less,
and rhythmically.
My heart could endure with merriness
the resonance she induced with her steps.

She was the right
I could enjoy.
Evenly spread from the toe-tip
to the finger to the head.
I coded my responsibility
over her whole nature
as right dwells
in the house of responsibilities.
With soap I could wash her,
trying to remove every fake
bit of dust off her body,
as I thought her nature
was precious, pure gold.

She was loving.
She was extraordinary.
She was the happiness.
But all in all she was
the flower, beautiful with a full scent
that after some time
lost her value, withered.
And she left my side,
my heart was broken.