Her

Her. The sole person in his life to make him happy.
Her. The most perfect being to be in his life.
Her. The laugh so infectious that himself always managed to catch it.
Her. The way she carried herself always so strong, after something so awful.
Her. The one he fell hard for.
Her. The one he always wanted to please no matter what.
Her. The one person he'd give the world to on a silver platter if he could.
Her. The one inspiration he got.

Her..

Her. A name no one knows..
Her. The son she gave for him..
Her. A face as white as snow..
Her. Skin as cold as ice..
Her. The last battle lost..
Her. Breathing now ceased..
Her. One last gift to the world..
Her last 'I love you.'

Him..

Him now shattered.
Him now not who he was.
Him now drifting through life.
Him a man alone.
Him raising his son.
Him reminded of that day.
Him a falling man, nowhere near the man he used to be.
Him broken..

The man's quill broke then, spilling ink into the corner of the piece he wrote, a mess it created. Just like the death of his wife created a mess of him..​