Beautiful Disaster

His pale pointed face
Captivates the untrained eye;
His carved hollow cheeks,
So exquisitely extreme, enough to make one sigh;
His dark shrewd irises
Stare straight through the quaking soul;
His raven hair
Chains the spirit with a magnetic pull;
His quiet nature
Tugs the heart strings cold;
His brilliant mind
Makes one wish to be daring and bold.

But I can't; he is too far gone,
He has lent himself into the grasp of evil.
And if I try,
It could end in a troubling destruction:
What a beautiful disaster.

His high cold laugh
Does not suit him, but draws me in;
His disgusting cruelty
Only causes me to endure through thick and thin;
His magic
Holds me spellbound with each wave of a wand;
His demanding tone
Roots me to the ground, lets my love be pawned;
His ignorance
Is anything but bliss, leaves me enchanted;
His twisted smile
Only imbibes my courage, leaves me undaunted.

Yet it's not meant to be.
I know he is
No saint,
Yet for me that handsome man
Is a beautiful disaster.

His physique
Changes dramatically over the unkind years;
His clipped voice
Becomes menacingly soft, invokes fearful tears;
His passion
Lacks subtlety for this game of murder he ensues;
His instincts
Lean towards domination, yet still I pursue;
His name- what reverence!
Shows what he truly avoids with determination;
His downfall
Quells my pleasure, leaves my hollow heart to extermination.

What if I'd intervened?
Could I have saved him?
All alone,
Friendless,
That beautiful disaster...