"They say I snatched you from the world above

Bound you with pomegranates, cast a spell
Bribed you with architecture. It’s not so.
Friendship is complicated, life is, love,
Your work the growing world, my task is Hell
You come back always, always have to go."
-Hades and Persephone by Jo Walton

The first time I saw him, what I saw wasn't him. He burned louder than the flames around him, full of life. But now my eyes can tear through that veil of strength and see honestly. See his skin so thin it can only be properly described as flesh. Complexion so dark, yet his milky bones seep through his body making him look like a living skeleton. The bags under his eyes weigh down his stature so greatly he needs to drag around his conscience. However, I see a delicate softness in his eyes. It may be my imagination, my hope that everyone is kind at heart, but I can notice every now and then a glimpse of pain, yearning for a time when he wasn't so alone in a world of empty bodies. You would think sucking the life out of everyone would give you some soul, but he's mastered death so well he's even destroyed himself.  But in spite of all I've been put through, I don't feel the pain anymore. How does a man who is himself a shadow, somehow light up my day? He embodies death, darkness, and still he makes me feel safe. They pity me, since he has stolen my body, yet I voluntarily give him my love everyday. They say I ate too many seeds, but I say it wasn't enough.