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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required To the sound of pelting rain, she woke in early morning Upon the tattered tin roof, it rhythmically pitter pattered No sunlight peeked through clouds on daylight's dawning She thought of him and of the dreams that were shattered, of the nights she'd spend without end, remorse spawning Windblown rain pummeled windows, on sills it splashed Obscured was her view, vision blurred behind each pane Howled as does a wolf, thunder growled, lightning flashed In rivulets like rain, was weeping she struggled to restrain Like drops of blood from a wound, her teardrops splashed That night, in shadowed lamplight she espied on the corner, a familiar silhouette of one whose countenance was a given Dark eyes of a raven who had waived his right to scorn her No vocal cawing was riven as torrents of rain were driven He was beyond the reach of this sad beseeching mourner Outside she ventured, into the sting of nettled showers for just one glimpse of him, she would offer as her reason On the street, scattered at her feet, her espousal flowers Fallacy, was an act Charlotte Bronte' would label 'treason' Uncloaked, soaked, she stood with her memories for hours From grief she could not hide nor abide her mirrored face His eyes, for once unveiled, yet not one word did he speak A webbing of fine silk threads spun, woven in warm embrace He had raised no hand in farewell. A tear grazed her cheek Without solace she would linger in portals of empty space She trembled, shivering, eyes teary, there was no mistaking her sips from tainted cup had the caustic taste of bitter gall The impeccant knight chose the right to claim his forsaking Nimbus skies lay overcast without surcease of a graying pall Fraught with aching, she sighed one word, "heartbreaking."
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