The Unwritten Chapter (Lazarus Continued)

She is the unwritten chapter,
The blank pages of the book
Staring back at me,
With a great promise of a future old and yellow and wrinkled
The story of great romance,
Hidden in its plain bosom

The back pages are stained,
With the memories and battle scars of the past
Rushing blue like the rushing waters of a river of dreams,
Ebbing red like blood let drop by drop
Running through the tome,
Like a tapestry of pathos and ethos

Each day the words come more into focus,
Closer to being etched unto antiquity
Chronicling warmth and clarity,
And the evolution of a human soul
Preserved as a foundation,
Upon which new chapters may yet be built

She is the unwritten chapter,
The untold story
Nor oracle nor providence can yet contemplate,
The wonders or hurdles that lie ahead
For she is the unwritten chapter,
Still forming in my head