She was beautiful, like the light off to the horizon at the days end. She was beauty, and in that horizon, there she went.
In the night, she was there, as cozy as any flame in a hearth. A nuzzle, a smile, and the star shine of dreams yet to come would appear. That flash, seemingly like lightning in clouds, somehow now brought a deluge into what should have kept.
That through the ruins that led rivers through this keep, as battlements fell without fire or arrow, my memory is there. Empty space where once was solid stone, silence where there once was laughter, and all now drowned under torrent and rising tide.
What was once a kiss now the feeling of a limb lost and seen only in photos of times now gone.
She was once beauty, like the symmetry of sun framed at first light. She was once beautiful as the hope of better days ahead, be them silver and gold, or in so little fortune there could only be a kiss.
She is there, upon the other side of these days. She remains there, and gone for what time the skies remain.