Washout

 

Eyes have run tears for hours at end,

Soaked in showers that heavens still send,

I stand for long beneath her sill,

As thunders explore to break my will.

Lights stay on, the rooftops pour,

My thoughts now bleed, but ask for more.

 

Flashes have dimmed down the worldly lights,

She walks, now stands, clear in my sights,

She looks down at me with certain despise,

Mauling me there, plain, with her eyes,

I know not the count of time that passed,

For certain I know of bounds trespassed.

 

She knows she’s guilty, yet stranger to shame,

With anger she binds fluid curses to my name

For I stand here now; answers I seek,

Of treachery that crowned in hearts of the weak.

We speak not a word, our eyes left to balk,

Rain gods in thunders and pours will now talk.

 

I move away now, there’s no more to tell,

This rain has stripped me of memories of her smell,

No more will words try to reason long fights,

No tests, no curbs, on withheld rights,

It was fair that love, with pain be composed,

I carry neither now; expelled and exposed.

 

…