The girl who lived to make her mark, to beat the cosmic drum
lost sight of her reflection, and cried, "hear me, anyone."
Into the bark of life gone stale, she longed to carve her name -
so toiling in dark revelry, she set the world aflame.

The one she loved erased himself, sought subtlety instead
He left the ground unsullied where his feet had dared to tread.
Obsessed not with remembrance, nor a legacy, as such
He gently found his peace within his gentle lover's touch.

But not impervious to death, are lives so subtly led
And down he laid himself to rest, a coffin in his stead
And caution-ridden lives like his were softer in their deaths;
but still one heart remained besieged, trapped shut in his still breast.

At first, in space her flesh touched his, the tenderness remained
But gardens sown in retrospect turned poison in the rain.
The subtle wrath of subtle love proved caustic on her skin
And, gentle in its sacrilege, dissolved her from within.

The girl who lived to leave her mark was marked by he who left
And mercilessly hollowed out upon a heart bereft
Of passion, drive, of anger, yet no vengeance to be found
She faded into apathy and left herself unbound.