The Angel of Creativity

He was kind, he was cruel.
He was a heart unbroken,
Touched by the very angels
That stole her soul.

He was blind, he was bright.
He was a love unknown.
Consumed by the naivety,
That drugged her.

He was horrible, he was perfect.
He was tragedy yet to unfold.
Transformed through the grief,
That tore her apart.

He was death, he was life.
He was the path less traveled.
Writing a beautiful story,
That she’d never know.

He was lies, he was honesty.
He was a mystery untold.
He was lost, he was found.
He was a daydream undreamt.
He was villain, he was hero.
He was a surreal imagining.
He was no one, he was her’s
He was her one inspiration.