The bed that cradles the crying man.
The pillow that holds his endless tears.
His window sees him and cries with him.
Quiet thunder lights up his darkness;
but only for a moment,
enough time for the crying man to open his red stuffy eyes,
and realize his bedside is still empty;
as empty as the hole left in his heart.
And he continues weeping from night till dawn,
for his darling dear will never come back.