Elixir Of Life.

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You said you wished to be
the greatest poet ever and
set to write the most
beautiful poem ever written
to immortalize, not in the
sands of time, for they fade
with time, but in the
rocks of centuries, your muse,
Me. And though today your
calloused hand lies cold and
dead, and the exquisite
smile your godly face adorned
is bereft of any affection, just
the ghost of what lay there once,
and the hazel eyes that made
me feel like the only girl in
the world are shut close are
hopefully, at peace. I
move silently as if I am
the one who left, across the room
to the papers that lay scattered
on your desk, my name written
on them. I open them and see a spectre
of words, beautifully written
in a variety of inks, some of
which is blotched and some of
it is cut hastily and in between
the wordly chaos, I find the
most beautiful lines ever written.
As my eyes well up with
tears, I think how you wrote
the greatest poem ever,
though just for me and how you lied,
immortalizing me in just your
memories, that will ironically
be buried in the sands of,
not time, but the earth,
like your mortal self.