She brings the rain, with it a collection of ethereal words, once discarded that should have been forever lost upon human ears. Their fragments, although lovely, could not be gathered into poetry without guidance, and the glamour of a purpose. A sempiternal meaning can be derived from anything of little consequence: fire, rolls of thunder, a name. You unravelled my most founded of fears, leading me from a labyrinth of a lifeβs worth of cynicism. Memory claims. An epiphany of sudden volition. If these words are unkempt and chaotic, broken, even, they still belong to me.