To him I spoke, and from me he ran to her arms of spite and venom. I offered him love and honesty, she gave him lies and words of hatred. Yet still she wins, and again I lose. So, I conceal nothing of my distaste of her. He walks through the shadows as a dead man, dying from the smothered embers of his inner fire. Ice begins to form and his heart turns to granite, protection from her stinging glares and scathing words. I watch in sorrow and with haunting dread, as with each day my heart breaks for his. He now sits alone in a crowded room, feeling the darkest moods he allows. I am surrounded with warmth from friends, yet I am still so alone. He yearns for the fire that once he felt, I yearn to stop the cold. A drip, a drop, a tick, a tock, as with time my warmth melts the ice. A spark, a flame, she was to blame for the darkness he became so entrenched. I the light, I the warmth, I the match to the flame. Re-lit the candle and I watched it tremble, as it again began to burn.