Desolate

Beneath the cold, unblinking gaze of the moon, they once stood united, two halves of a whole, bound by chains forged from passion and tempered by tragedy.

"Her mind may have forgotten me, but her eyes, those brown shells that hold the vault of heaven , still recognize me... for in the holly mosque of her ribs, lays open, my heart, soul, and being,
for there they were enshrined.
Between the arch of her lips and the symphony of her voice, my name finds its purpose. My soul has faded in the waste of her amnesia, yearning for the haven of her recollection.
My psyche has been deprived in a silent craving of her own..
Though the labyrinth of her mind has led her astray, I remain the constant north star, guiding her back to the constellations of our love. In the silent language of the heart, I call out to her, my voice echoing through the chambers of memory she has lost.
And so, I exist in this limbo, bound by love to a woman who no longer knows my name, yet helplessly, hopelessly, eternally hers."

-Best believe nothing is the way it looks like.