It was bareness and black she'd wear,
that I witness her emerald eyes so rare.
Or maybe to be better seen by them,
Their keen gleam peering like a gem
into the forlorn space where my shadow lies
in wait of her emerald eyes,
window to a world enchanted.
From the depths of a forgotten night,
She called forth my own forsaken light,
that by her grace I may be granted
to see, through my own emerald eyes,
her world enchanted.