[A_Perfect_Sonnet]

Art Is Love

It was so clear once I came up for air,
I saw the asthetics fade.
The imperfection of a facade,
The decadance of her beauty.
I saw the way she sealed herself off in artistry,
And how she screamed for breath,
But my eyes stayed dry.
After she had collapsed I left a rose behind,
For a most romantic ending.

Oh, how she defiled grace so well,
It showed in the pallor of her skin.
Misery's claws tore into her chest,
And strangled what was left.

But when shone under sunlight,
The grays turned to Belle's tints.
Vibrant reds layed over blue,
Swirling to violet.
Her face took to suffocation so well.