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He smiled, because she is beautiful.
She smiled, because she likes being noticed.
He wanted to get to know her.
She wanted to get to know him.
He stared at the golden strings attached to her heart and began composing.
She sang the song of the siren to lure him into a false sense of hope.
He stayed because of love.
She strayed because of convenience.
He picked up the pieces of his broken heart and placed them in Pandora's Box.
She played off his insecurity to obliterate her own.
He crumbled.
She rose.
She left.
He lost himself in the fog of ether, corn, wheat, and rye.
She returned to him with veiled intentions.
He fell again, like a newborn soldier, like a child's dream.
She broke him with a double-edged sword of malicious love and pain.
He turned for help and found a vast emptiness in urban jungle of dreams and fantasies.
And the world spins spins hope and heartache into all that is, all that was, and all that will ever be.