Frost fills her eyes with haze and her hair with crystals. Her lips tremble as if forming inaudible words of suffering in a tongue so sweet and distant that it would be heresy for my ears to understand or my tongue to attempt translation. The simplicity of the hopelessness in her eyes fills my heart with a mournful sorrow that one can only describe further as death. This quaking shade before me is the most sad/beautiful thing I have ever seen, and, yet, I only realize the extant of her beauty in these, her final moments. She is perfection in its most awesome and temporary form. Search as I may, I can find no parallel in nature or mind. She is grace. She is life. She is love. She is dying. And as my mouth opened to attempt to formulate in the simplest of words the emotion that has come over me, her eyes shift focus to some distant unimaginable place, leaving my words to fall on vacant ears; "I love you."