The sun painted streaks of bewitching brightness across the fading sky.
Its warmth was false; a thunderstorm was threatening to break.
A lone man stood his hair in ruin, around his neck lie a loosened tie.  

The falling autumn leaves spread around his torn shoes.
The clouds above cracked and thunder shook the earth.
His life lay scattered in the blackened hues.

His memories crashed around him in heartbroken picture shows.
Her laughs and smiles all gone now.
He’d been burnt in the storm, but no new life was going to grow.

The torture spun around his heart, its thread a deadly barbwire.
Its agony bent on destroying him.
Swallowing him in a web of despair and fire.

Her memories came with the scent of fresh cut roses.
A face that could have outshined any star.
In his palm rests a velvet box, a proposal ring it encloses.

He laid that velvet box upon the ground,
it was too late now.
She was no longer around.

The clock was ticking and the alarm had rang.
There was no time left destiny had called her away.
A weeping ballad he sang.

Now there is just an empty shell.
A hallow of a man once alive.
To you he bids his last farewell.

His opened his swollen eyes and fixated on the simple headstone grave.
His wife buried in a coffin covered in once crimson roses.
In heartache he drowned, himself he never forgave.