She was stunning; the kind of girl that made men kill.  Ruby lips, gold hair, jade eyes, and marble skin adorned her face. 

        Now, she rots for all eternity in a box in the ground. In 10,000 years, archaeologists will dig up her coffin only to find a titanium hip and knee and marvel at her perfectly preserved bionic appendage. How frivolous all this seems at times. 

I spin around and around, frantically, in a panic, utterly helpless.

She's gone.  I can't find her. I don't know who took her.  She's just gone.

Was it death? Shadows? Boogeymen? 

Before she was born, I longed for death but never found it.  

Now that she's here, I long for life.

If something happens to her, how can I live? Will I ever be the same?

Will life be worth living? 

My precious daughter, more valuable than platinum and gold.

I can't stand to lose her. I fear it more than death.

There is no pain, no hell worse than this.

There will never be another like her, flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood.

And it's my fault. Whether it was or not, really, it was my fault.

I brought her into this world, and failed to protect her.

She trusted me and I let her down.

I don't deserve to live. So I shall lay here and wither, until death comes and takes me too.

And then we can be together, my beloved and I. 

Once more, we can dance and play; for all of eternity.

But for now, I shall live my life with her.

Take each day as it is; a true gift from the universe.

A temporary reprieve until we must inevitably be parted by death.

And I will love her, fearlessly, until that day.