His eyes are an abyss of worries only he knew of, sad thoughts and fearful moments. Yet he was always caring from the outside, kind and gentle soul. Only his eyes told his story, but as you stared at them for long, they would turn normal, a mask for his breaking soul. He had always been beautiful, but his beauty seemed fragile. His white edges grew grimmer like the frost on his heart. Only time knew his story, but all time would do was silently drift by, leaving more marks on his marred inside.