Eyes wandering aimlessly searching for the adrift epitome.
The eyes were of the seeker, drowning in a lonesome pool called love.
They asked theirself unnecessary questions.
With answers that they've long known, but ached when thought of.
The feeling of contempt and anguish overthrown them.
Compassion was what they called it.
And it was a poison, everyday in which they felt.
One that was endless.
Like the slowest death one could ever experience.
Bit by bit of the soul.
Consuming the seeker.
The one who wouldn't give in to heartbreak's temptation.
Until their final breath was taken.
