On the equinox of spring they began their courtship
He bending at knee with sweet golden flowers
Lost in his love and adoration for this creature before him
She had won him years before with sharp wit and sharper tongue
Proving she was not only a beauty in sight
But a treasure in life and on God's green earth
Three months later they wed under stars
And bright white flowers showered their beginning lives

Years they lived in harmony with each other
He was her love bottled in flesh
She was the gravity that tied him to ground
Lost in their passion was the sorrow of sacrifices
Lorien's father refused him his birthright as king
Lydian's body could not produce fruit
She wept for the children who should have been crowned
He wiped her tears away with soft words and softer hands

War broke out between neighboring kingdoms
On the eve of their fifth anniversary
Lorien was called into service as soldier of arms
And so Lydian followed him into the battle
He fought and he slew with quick and sure strokes
After Lydian had told him a story about his sword
How it was not just a sword but a paint brush with colour
And how with each swing he was not cleaving flesh and bone
But simply painting new pictures with a brush full of red
He believed her story, his enemies did not

As she watched from the safety of a large oak tree
Lydian saw her husband fall to the ground
With sharp bitter iron jutting from his chest
She flew to him on feet that barely touched the ground
And sobbed his name into the air
Lorien," she said, "please don't leave me
But she saw his spirit rise above her
Lorien, come back!" she commanded the man
And the gravity of her pulled him back
She caressed his face and held him close
All the while thanking the heavens
For the life she had finally managed to give

As they turned to leave the field, however
An arrow flew and rested in her bosom
For Lydian had not been meant to give life
Death had come for his dues
Lorien fell to the ground with her
And tried to call her back as she had called him
Fruitless were his attempts, said Death
Because he was a man, and man is not meant to
Give life, only women
He could not bring her back

Lorien would not take no for an answer
He stormed to his home and grabbed his paints
And set about painting his love for Lydian
His tears were added into his pigment
And so his life was poured into her
She turned her body and he painted her 'round
Til on his canvas was the true Lydian of his life
He gave her children she always wanted
Dresses and trees
And he created a house

The one thing she wanted, though, was him
And as time passed she saw him less and less
He would spend half the day with her
Doting on her with lover's affection
But then he would leave
And she would not see him until morning again
She grew to understand she lived only in one phrase
Morning came and left with mourning

Though he was not yet thirty he looked to be fifty
Aged by Death for giving life that he had no right to give
But Lorien had one last gift for his Lydian
And he refused Death's hand again and again
Then one day he walked to his wife with a painting in hand
Lorien gave himself to his Lydian

And in it was an image of himself as she always loved him
He bound them together and watched them embrace
Before taking Death's hand and walking quietly on
This artist had given life