Bereft of Iconicity

bereft in his heart, which softly bleeds,
his love is the dreg from a cold, harsh drink.
but, from her veins anvil-hot, his life concedes to
Her and Her alone…fearless his heart is linked.
that in her veins, stirred of reddest red
that in her heart, shadowed of bluest blue,
there lies a death-surround upon them both.
chimes of pain their love no other chord can strike
his heart…her icon….bereft of iconicity,
neither blue, nor crimson red;
yet, soaked and soured in stoven dread!